Laughing Blind
by jokeraddict0
Summary: In the grim city of Gotham, a blind 19 year old named Hannah Khent is on a field trip for her college psychology class. Their destination: Arkham Asylum. Their task: interview and diagnosis their assigned patient. But Hannah appears to be in for more than she bargained for when her assigned inmate is the infamous Joker himself.
1. Prologue

Prologue: See No Evil

All the girl could hear was the pounding of her heart and the rapid tapping of her feet on the pavement. Her long brown, wavy hair flew behind her as she fled. With every step she took, her head throbbed so painfully that she almost lost consciousness. She tried to ignore the spasms, but in vain. All at the same time, she was frightened, in pain, and too tired to continue. But the girl knew she couldn't stop. Not with the certainty of a brutal death following close behind her.

So she kept on running. Right, left, dead end, back track, left again. The girl looked over her shoulder and saw the mob vermin bearing down on her like they were chasing a prize. Though they were not in the best of shape, they were still catching up, fast. And the labyrinth of alleyways did nothing to help her current situation. They were endless and merciless. There seemed to be no way out. It was like she was in a gigantic maze full of lab rats, and she was the cheese.

The sound of the death party behind her grew louder, closer. The girl turned around again to see how much longer she had. But there was nothing there. No mob, no alleyway, nothing. Just a solid void of black. No sound, no light, black.

The sudden loss of her surroundings made the girl stop in her tracks. She blinked her eyes, trying to get rid of the oppressing, relentless darkness. But no matter how hard she tried, the void was still there, everywhere. It was too much to handle and the girl was over taken by panic. She started to sprint blindly through the black, trying to find a way out.

Then an insane laughter rang out through the gloom. The girl stopped again, shocked and frightened. She looked around frantically for the source but the maniacal giggling seemed to come from all sides.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm and twisted it painfully behind her back. She could feel the cold metal of a knife at her throat and the foul breath of her captor. The girl screamed. Sound cut. Silence.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Assignment

Sitting up quickly, Hannah woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. She felt the familiar cotton sheets of her twin size bed and started to calm down from her sudden fright. While running her fingers through her curly, brunette hair, Hannah concentrated on slowing her breathing. She looked around the usual black void that would have been her dorm room.

_Being blind sure doesn't help with nerves_, Hannah thought to herself. She listened to the sounds of Gotham city. The screeching of cars, the screams of victims, the laughter of the criminals as they watch their prey squirm. But since these sounds were typical around the clock, Hannah couldn't tell what time it was.

Sighing, she patted around in search for the hard wood of her bedside table. Finding it, she then pressed one of the many plastic, Braille marked buttons on her alarm clock. A computerized voice responded with, "The time is currently six thirty-seven A.M."

_So it's morning_, the blind girl thought. _Might as well get up._

Sighing again, Hannah grabbed her white cane and rolled out of bed. She shivered slightly as she left the warmth of her sheets. The mornings were still chilly in April. As she navigated over to the bathroom, she could feel the slightly course carpet with her bare feet as she shuffled across the room. _The RA said the carpet was blue if I remember correctly_, Hannah thought.

Once Hannah felt the cool tile underfoot, she knew she had reached her destination. She leaned her cane against the counter and stared into the non-existent mirror, thinking of how, if she could see, she would look. All she knew was that she was half Japanese/half American, with mid-back length nearly black, wavy hair, dark brown eyes, and was about five foot three inches tall. The last time she had seen herself in a mirror was in seventh grade when she was thirteen. Now she was a nineteen-year-old freshman at Gotham University so her appearance was up to her imagination.

Breaking out of her thoughts, Hannah started her usual routine: brush teeth, wash face, brush hair. All the while, she sighed and wondered, _Why did I have to have that dream again? I know how I became blind. I don't need a nightly reminder of it. Especially since every sight unseen is reminder enough. And what was up with that weird ending? I don't remember anyone laughing like that. Or me dying, for that matter._

Shrugging to herself, she finished with her hygiene. Hannah grabbed her cane again and moved towards the dresser right next to the bathroom. Searching through the drawers of coded clothing, she found a pair of faded blue jeans that was folded into a triangle shape and a maroon t-shirt that was rolled like a log. Since she was blind, she had to create a system so that she didn't look like a six year old who dressed themselves for the first time. That would be extremely embarrassing, even though she had an excuse.

Hannah slipped out of her pajamas, which she noticed were her striped purple ones that had the square button on the front, and got dressed. Once she was done, she dropped her night clothes in the white plastic laundry basket to the left of her dresser. She then opened one last drawer that was full of white socks, took a pair out, and slipped them on.

With herself dressed for the day, Hannah then made her way towards a set of drawers at the other end of the room that served as a small kitchen, complete with a mini fridge and a microwave. She felt around for the edge of the counter, opened up the top drawer and took out a bowl and a spoon. Setting them on the top of the set of drawers, she grabbed a box of fruit loops that was next to the microwave.

After pouring herself a serving of the cereal and putting the box back, Hannah opened the fridge, took out the jug of milk, and poured some over her breakfast. Once she put the milk away, she grabbed the bowl and spoon and moved over to her desk that was right next to her kitchen and sat down to eat.

As Hannah sat there, munching on her breakfast, she thought back on the dream she just had that reminded her of a major turning point in her life. It was a part of her past that she would never be able to forget even if she tried. The day her parents had died.

It had been about eight years ago. The day had started out normal enough. Typical day of a seventh grader. She reluctantly woke up, went to school, hung out with her friends, and then headed home after a long day to do homework.

As she walked towards the door to her family's apartment, she was thinking about the rough draft she had to write for her English class. It was due the next day and she still had a long way to go. Sighing at the fact that she would have to pull an all-nighter, Hannah unlocked the door and announced that she was home.

But when Hannah opened the door to her parents' apartment, she only caught a glimpse of them bound and gagged before someone grabbed her from behind. Whoever it was shoved his filthy hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream for help. She struggled, trying to free herself from the man's strong hold, with no success. The other men in the room then tied her up just like her parents. All she could do was stare at her parents, pleading for an explanation to what was going on. The kidnappers noticed the eye contact and decided to put a stop to it.

After being blind folded, the family of three was hauled out of the building, deposited in a car of some sort, and driven through a maze of pathways. Hannah's mind raced with thoughts of why they were being kidnapped, but she couldn't think of anything. She could only lie there, worrying about what was going to happen to her family. The drive only took about twenty minutes, but to the temporarily incapacitated, it seemed to be an eternity.

When the vehicle came to a stop, they were roughly hoisted from it and practically dragged along. Hannah struggled, trying to free herself, with little success. She was really starting to freak out, especially since she couldn't see where they were going. The men finally were fed up with her struggling and whacked her on the head to make her stop. Hannah decided to give up for the time being. She knew that she would need all her strength if she wanted to help her parents.

The move finally came to an end when they were strapped to rickety, old chairs that felt like they were made of wood. Once they were secured, their captors removed their blind folds and gags. Upon regaining her sight, Hannah took in her surroundings. From the look of the enormous trashed and dimly lit room, they seemed to be in an old, abandoned warehouse. The walls were made of brick and the concrete floor was littered with various bits of garbage. The only things that were in the room were the lamps hanging from the ceiling, Hannah and her parents tied to chairs, and a group of mobsters, talking amongst themselves.

_Great, _Hannah thought. _No phone. How the heck are we supposed to get help?_

The cluster of men was positioned under one of the few working lamps. Hannah scanned the congregation, noting that there were about ten mob members. They were all burly guys who apparently had no life but to eat and body build. The sight of them reduced Hannah's hope for escape. Her parents weren't fighters and neither was she.

_This is NOT good. Our chances are just getting slimmer and slimmer. How are we going to make it?_

Hannah was starting to hyperventilate when there was a sound of a door screeching open in the shadows. _What now?_ Hannah thought, turning to the sound. She didn't think she could handle anymore bad news. Everyone look in the direction of the noise until someone appeared into the light. The man was black, almost six feet tall, wearing a fine tailored business suit that was a pinstriped, neutral gray color. All of the mobsters waved to the new comer and some of them said, "Hey boss."

The mob boss waved back but kept walking in the direction toward my parents who were to the left of Hannah. He stopped right in front of them and asked, "So, where's my money?" Confused, Hannah could only think, _What is he talking about? Money? When did they ever borrow money? _She looked at the ground, trying to think of what he could have meant but nothing came to mind.

Hannah looked over at her dad, Gerald, when he spoke up. "W-we don't h-have it. P-please give us some more t-time," he said, stuttering. He was just as freaked out as Hannah was.

"I've given you more than enough. And now it's time to pay up." The boss nodded over to his goons, a smirk plastered on his face. The men started to walk over.

"PLEASE! For the sake of our daughter! Please give us more time. We'll pay you back, we will! We just need more time," Gerald pleaded. The look on his face was something Hannah would never forget. He looked like a desperate man, willing to bargain with the devil if necessary.

"It's too late for that." The boss gave an evil chuckle.

Without warning, one of the goons punched Hannah in the stomach so hard that she nearly puked. Her breath was knocked out of her so she was doubled over, gasping for air. Hannah's world shrank to just her. She needed to breath, needed air. Hannah tried so hard to fill her lungs up again that she was oblivious to her surroundings. The man that punched her just watched her struggle for air with an evil grin on his face.

Once she had regained some air in her lungs, Hannah glanced over at her parents. They were getting beaten up worst than she was. The mobsters just kept pummeling them, kicking and punching. Hannah tried to free herself from the chair and help her parents but she wasn't strong enough. The man just laughed at her pathetic attempt and then looked back to the beating.

The couple was soon limp in their chairs, blood dripping everywhere. The only sign that they were still alive was the slight movement of their chests as they took shallow, almost nonexistent, breaths. _Oh thank God! They're not dead_, Hannah thought, relieved. She watched their breathing increase until it seemed back to normal.

She turned back to the mob boss when he made a huffing noise. He didn't seem satisfied enough so he looked over at one of his men and gave a nod. The man, who was about five foot nine and balding, rummaged in his pockets and brought out a black object. _What the hell is that?_ Hannah thought. She didn't realize it was a knife until the mobster flicked it open, exposing the shimmering blade. Hannah could only gawk and stare. She didn't want to think of what he could do with it.

He proceeded to walk over to the unconscious pair, stopping behind Hannah's mother, Caroline. Once he was stationed behind her, he pulled back her head, almost seeming to caress it. He placed the blade against her throat and in one quick swipe, sliced Caroline's live away.

"NOOOO!" Hannah screamed as she watched her mother's body became totally limp and lifeless. She tried to get free but she could only sit there and stare, not believing her eyes as blood started to stain her mother's white blouse.

Hearing her scream of terror and sorrow, the knife man looked over at her and grinned. He was getting pleasure out of the killing. Hannah glared at the murderer, anger coursing through her veins. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor.

Gerald regained consciousness after the scream and looked over at Hannah with concern. He followed the direction of her gaze to the body of his wife. Seeing the blood dripping from Caroline's neck, he began to fight against his restraints, yelling obscenities at the mob for killing his wife. Hannah watched in horror as the knife man calmly walked over to him and slit his throat as well.

The shock of watching both of her parents killed right before her eyes almost caused Hannah to faint. She almost became an empty shell, but she quickly got a hold of herself when she saw the glint of the blood stained knife as its owner walked over to her. She tried to keep herself from trembling without much success. _So this is how it will end_, she thought. Not a comforting thought.

When the murderer stood in front of her, he turned around to the boss, waiting for instructions. The boss responded, "Why don't you play with her a little bit, Blade? No sense in wasting a good thing when it comes."

As Blade turned back towards Hannah with a look of pure malicious delight, Hannah sarcastically thought, _How befitting of a name. Next Sweeney Todd will walk through the door._ While glaring at his ugly face, she noticed a scar that ran from his forehead, over his right eye, and ended at his nose in an outward curved fashion. Maybe he had too much fun with his knife one time. She watched him as he walked around to the back of the chair she was strapped to.

The evil man cut the ropes that bound her to the chair. Being free from the restraints, Hannah tried to make a break for it but Blade grabbed her by the arm and threw her against the brick wall. The front of Hannah's head met the hard surface with a crack. She staggered back, trying to keep herself from passing out.

Blood gushed from the wound and poured down her face. It was the most painful experience in her life. The room seemed to spin and she could see stars. There was a painful pounding in her head, but Hannah did her best to ignore it. There were other, more pressing matters, like Blade with his knife. Hannah applied pressure to her wound and tried to straighten up. She found that she couldn't stand straight so she leaned against the wall for balance. After a few minutes, the room slowly came into focus again, though it was still a little distorted.

Once she had more control over herself, Hannah stared at Blade, only glancing around a few times to assess her surroundings. The first order of business was to escape from the warehouse. From where she was positioned, the closest way out was behind the man in front of her. There was an open door only about five feet away. And from looking around, she knew that the other mob members were preoccupied with cleaning up the mess that used to be her parents. _Now all I have to do is get through this knife loving ape_, Hannah thought, trying to think of a plan.

Blade was watching her like a lioness on the prowl for some wildebeests. Knowing that she didn't stand much of a chance, he playfully crept closer and closer with an evil grin spread across his scarred face, chuckling to himself the whole time. When he was only a few feet away and with his bloody knife ready at hand, he lunged at Hannah.

With only a second to react, Hannah aimed a kick for the groin, the fail-safe maneuver on men. Blade collapsed to his knees in pain, holding him crotch with a mixed look of surprise and discomfort on his face. As she passed him, Hannah poked him in the eyes for good measure and then booked it for the door.

On the other side of the door was a long hallway that seemed about thirty feet long. Luckily, she wasn't at the end of it but at one of the side doors. _For all that's gone bad, this is the luckiest part so far_, she thought. Quickly scanning right and left, Hannah turned right in the direction of the closest exit sign, which was about ten feet away. As she was rushing through the escape route, she could hear the now angry mob starting to give chase. _Oh great. The pudgy brigade is after me._

With the motivation of the angry mob behind her, Hannah began to race even faster and finally broke out into the cool, polluted air of Gotham. She took in a deep breath, new hope growing inside. Maybe she will survive this night. Looking up briefly, she could see the dark night sky but no stars. The city lights were too bright to allow stars to shine through the glare. Shaking herself out of her daze, cursing at the increased pounding of her head due to the act, she hastened down the alleyway that she had ended up in.

Recognizing the dark, filthy passage, Hannah realized that they actually were not that far from her house. Maybe only a block or two away. _I guess the mob wanted to save on gas_, she thought.

Now that she knew where she was, Hannah dashed through the maze of dark alleyways, making her way to the main street. At least there she'll have a better chance at finding someone to help, even if that chance was slim. People were not too good at helping others in this city, since that usually led to them needing help as well.

With every step she took, her head ached almost unbearably. But Hannah wouldn't stop. She didn't have a death wish. And she also was not going to let the mob get away with murder. _ They're going to pay for what they did, I'll make sure of that_. But before she could do anything, Hannah needed to first find a police officer and file a report. That would get the justice ball rolling.

Despite her head start, Hannah could hear the mob closing in on her, wanting to get at her and kill her. Slowly but surely, they were gaining on her. They were fast for pudgy guys, she gave them that. _They probably have lots of practice with running after victims_. She looked over her shoulder to check their progress. The criminals were about twenty feet behind.

"Shit," she cursed. With that hanging over her, Hannah put pedal to the metal and ran like hell.

Turning left, Hannah finally reached the street. She frantically looked around for someone, anyone. Thankfully, she found a cop to her right and raced towards him. He was white, about five foot nine, with short brown hair and a bottlebrush mustache. He saw her approach and came forward to help. Once she was close enough to him, she grabbed onto one of his arms and managed to gasp, "The mob…they're…trying to…kill me!"

There was a sound from the alleyway she had just come out of. Hannah quickly turned around and almost fell over from the pain in her head. The officer looked over at the alleyway and saw the goons come running out. He reacted immediately. Instinctively, he grabbed Hannah by the arm and shoved her behind him. The mob goons stopped short when they saw the officer. In response, her savior raised his gun and shouted, "Drop your weapons and put your hands up! You're all under arrest!"

With that, the mobsters turned around and ran back into the alley as fast as they could. The officer chuckled to himself at the reactions of the criminals, holstered his weapon and turned back toward Hannah. Seeing her blood encrusted face, he became highly concerned and said, "We need to get you to a hospital."

"But what about the mob?" she asked frantically. The adrenaline from the evening's drama was still pumping through her veins. She was breathing heavily and kept anxiously looking around, expecting the mob to come back at any moment.

"Don't worry," he assured her. He placed his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "You're safe now. We'll get them for whatever they did after we get you cleaned up."

Hannah let out a huge sigh. Her luck had turned for the better by having her meet one of the few good cops left in Gotham. She looked at her savior and said, "Thank you, officer…?"

"Gordon, Sergeant Jim Gordon."

"Thank you, Sergeant Gordon." She smiled at the man, almost tempted to hug him. Then everything started to spin and went black.

Hannah woke up in a dark room. The first thing she noticed was the disinfected scent that was typical of a hospital room. She felt the slightly coarse sheets and plastic handlebars of the hospital bed. When she resituated herself into a sitting position, she felt the tug of a needle that was stuck in her right arm. She could hear the beeping of the numerous monitors hooked up to her, but when she looked around, the room was so dark that she couldn't even see the small lights that were usually on them. Thinking this strange, Hannah blinked her eyes multiple times but she couldn't see anything. _They must keep it really dark in here at night so patients can sleep_, she thought.

Hearing the click of the door latch, Hannah turned to see who just came in. But still, she couldn't see anything. Hannah thought this was odd but quickly dismissed it. She looked in the direction of the sounds of footsteps that came toward her.

"Hey there, sleepy head," a male voice said. _Must be the doctor_, she thought. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"It's…morning?" she asked, a little shocked. _That's weird. _Hannah looked around again, trying to find a sign that said it was morning.

"Yeah. About nine o'clock." He chuckled a little but with a trace of uneasiness in it.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Quite sure," the doctor replied, his voice laced with worry.

Confused, Hannah inquired, "Then why is it pitch black in here? I can't see a thing."

"Nothing at all?" the doctor asked with great concern. Something touched her head. Not knowing what it was, she flinched away from it.

"It's ok, Hannah. I'm only checking your eyes," the doctor said. "Now, can you see this?" Hannah shook her head in response to the doctor, which caused a slight spasm and made her cringe. Although she could feel something that was slightly warm on her skin, possibly a light beam from a flashlight, she couldn't see it. With that, the doctor let go of Hannah and ran to the door. He flung it open and barked, "Nurse! Get me a gurney and then go prep the CT scan! ASAP!"

There then was a buzz of activity around her. Hannah was transferred to another bed-like surface, most likely the gurney, and rolled off to some unknown place. The people that were surrounding her were talking in medical terms she couldn't understand and telling people to make a path. She could here the rattling of the wheels of the gurney and the opening of doors as they rushed her to their destination.

The whole time, Hannah was starting to panic. She couldn't see what was going on and that freaked her out. It reminded her of the events of the other night, before her parents were killed. She tried to get off the gurney but the hospital staff kept pinning her back down.

After about five minutes, they stopped and transferred her to yet another bed-like surface, though one that was less comfortable. More like a table with a sheet on it and some cushioned barriers to secure her head. Hannah was still a little fidgety but now that she stopped moving, she started to calm down a bit.

"Now Hannah, I need you to stay as still as possible," her doctor said. "Do you think you can do that for me?"

"I'll try my best," she replied, meekly. She took deep breaths to calm herself more.

"Alright. This will be over before you know it." She could hear the smile in his voice, though he still sounded worried. He patted her on the leg, walked out of the room and closed the door. Hannah stared up toward, or at least what should have been, the ceiling.

The table she was laying on started to move, making her go backwards. She stayed as still as she could, breathing slowly so she didn't start to panic again. There was a sound of something revolving around her head, but she wasn't sure what it was. To pass the time, Hannah concentrated on her breathing. In and out, in and out. After about a hundred and twenty breaths in, the table started to move again, in the other direction.

The door to the room opened and several people walked in. "Ok. Wheel her back to her room while we look over the scans," her doctor said.

Hannah was transferred back to the gurney and moved back through the hospital to her room, but at a slower pace. She didn't freak out this time now that there wasn't a bunch of people hovering over her, speaking medical gibberish. The gurney came to a stop and Hannah assumed they were back in her room. An invisible staff member placed her on her bed and hooked her back onto the monitors. The unlatching and latching of the door signaled that the person left.

All Hannah could do was lay there, staring into nothing, listening for a sign of the doctor coming. When just waiting became too boring, Hannah started to count the number of beeps coming from the monitors. She didn't get far when the sound of the door opening marked the doctor's approach, along with his footsteps and the rustling of papers. Now came the diagnosis.

"Hannah, its me, your doctor," he said, announcing his presence.

"I know," she replied flatly.

"Now what I'm about to tell you maybe a bit of a shock. So I would like you to try to remain calm. Do you think you could do that?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. When you arrived here last night, you had severe head trauma," the doctor explained. "From the look at the scans we just took, it appears that the impact inflicted damage on your optic nerves, there by disrupting the connection with you brain. This seems to have caused you to become blind."

"Is the damage permanent?" she asked tentatively.

"That's hard to say," the doctor sighed. It was obvious that he hated giving bad news like this. "The loss of sight could only be temporary, with the possibility that the nerves will repair themselves. But there is also the possibility that the damage is irreversible. And surgery would be too risky."

"Great," Hannah said sarcastically. "I lose my parents _and_ my sight." _Could things get any worse?,_ she asked herself.

"We'll be keeping you here for observation for a while. But in the meantime, now that you are stable, I'll have the officer come in to get your statement about what happened yesterday. And then after you rest for a couple days, we'll start you on lessons for Braille and a blind cane."

"Good. A seeing-eye dog would make me sneeze."

_That was the worst experience of my life_, Hannah thought as she snapped out of her flash back. She grabbed her cane and picked up her dirty dishes, walked over to the sink, and placed them in the basin to deal with later. Just because she was blind didn't mean she couldn't be lazy. After pushing a button on her wristwatch, a computerized voice said, "The time is seven twelve A.M."

_Time to head to college_, Hannah thought as she maneuvered over to her bags that were by the front door of her room. After propping her cane against the wall, she sat down on the floor and put on her worn, maroon converse sneakers. They were her favorite pair and she wore them everywhere.

Standing up, Hannah slipped on her knee length, black jacket. It was still quite chilly outside in April. _It is getting warmer, slowly. And that means my birthday is just around the corner, _she thought, smiling to herself. It would be her golden year this year, turning twenty on the twentieth of April in about two weeks. Just thinking about it made Hannah excited and smile to herself.

With her jacket on, Hannah reached down, found the strap of her shoulder bag and picked it up. All of her necessities such as laptop, money, and cell phone were in there and she had it with her at all times. Slinging the bag onto her shoulder, Hannah grabbed her cane and went out the door, locking it behind her. She turned right and made her way down the hall to the elevator.

After pushing the call button, Hannah moved in front of the doors and waited for the elevator to arrive. She started to hum some random melody when a ding signaled its arrival and with the sound of the door sliding open, Hannah walked in. As she continued to hum, she felt around the Braille marked control panel and pushed the ground floor button. The doors closed and the elevator started to move down.

As she waited in the empty lift, Hannah reached into her bag and pulled out a peppermint stick. She always had some with her. They were her comfort food in a way. If she ever felt nervous or stressed or just needed to concentrate, she had one in her mouth. And considering what she had to do that day, a peppermint stick was definitely needed.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Hannah walked out and used her cane to navigate her way across the lobby of the building to the front doors. The smoggy, morning air of Gotham met her as she walked out the door. Hannah shivered a little at the crisp chill of the morning. Luckily, today was not that windy. Only a slight breeze blew.

"Hey Hannah," a familiar male voice said to the left of her.

"Hey Dimitri," Hannah replied, turning to the voice. It was her best friend, Dimitri Alvarez. They had known each other since elementary school. After her parents' death, Dimitri's family pretty much adopted her. They would do everything together and now she couldn't imagine a life without him there.

Dimitri was one year older than her. He had turned twenty-one on the twenty-eighth of March. According to his own description, he was tall(about five foot ten), dark(a Russian/Hispanic mix) and handsome with dyed black hair. Some tended to disagree but Hannah couldn't tell and it didn't matter anyway. She headed over towards her friend and they started walking. He took her arm to keep her in the right direction. "Thanks for coming to get me," she said.

"No prob. I see you're starting early on the peppermint, eh, Sugar Cane?" he joked, grinning.

"Today's a special case." Hannah hated that play on words of her middle name, Caine, her blind cane, and her sweet tooth. But she would never be able to get Dimitri to stop calling her that. He was as stubborn as a mule and loved to push her buttons. _Such an instigator_, she though to herself, smirking and shaking her head. Though she wouldn't want him any other way.

"Oh, right. The field trip. Are you ready for it?" Dimitri asked.

"As I'll ever be." She shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

They arrived at Dimitri's car in the parking lot in front of her dorm. Being stupid, he said with a hint of a French accent, "I'll get the door for you, mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you, monsieur," Hannah retorted back playfully but slightly irritated. "You know I don't like being babied. I might be blind but I'm not incapable."

"I know," he chuckled. "But it was fun to see your reaction."

"Glad I amuse you so much." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in amusement, and allowed him to help her into the car. It was a blue 95 Escort that he had bought for a little less than a thousand bucks a year ago. Of course, it wasn't perfect but at least it worked. Dimitri did his best to keep it in working condition and it seemed to be paying off. Hannah was able to tell the improvement from minute differences in the sound of the engine and the feel of the ride each time she rode in it.

Once the two friends were all situated, Dimitri started the car and headed to where the buses for the field trip were located. Hannah turned on the radio and searched through the stations for something to listen too. She was still flipping through them when Dimitri asked, "So how exactly did you get into such a predicament with this field trip?"

"Well, Dr. Zitchell decided that we needed more field experience," Hannah explained. "So he organized a trip to Arkham Asylum for us to question and observe some of the inmates there."

"So he just wanted to put you guys straight in with the crazies, huh?"

"Pretty much. We have to try to diagnose what mental illness they have."

"Try?" he questioned. "Sounds like he expects you to fail."

"Well, we _are_ still students," she reasoned.

"Right…" He sounded unconvinced. "So how did you get _him_?"

"To make everything fair and unbiased, he put the names of all the patients in a hat and had us each come up and pick one out. And what do you know? With my luck, I drew the name of the most dangerous man there."

"The Joker." There was a hint of distaste in how Dimitri said the name. Not surprising with all that the man had done to Gotham.

"Yep. When I drew it, Dr. Zitchell was quite shocked and highly concerned. He asked if I wanted to choose a different name."

"But you didn't."

"That's 'cause I didn't want it to look like I was getting special treatment. The other people in the class would probably be angry. And also it's kinda a pride thing too. You know I don't like being looked down upon. Besides, it's only for one day and a few hours at that. No big deal."

They soon arrived at the buses. Hannah quickly got out of the car before Dimitri could 'help' her again. She could hear him walking around the car over to her.

"Good luck today," he said, giving her a tight hug.

"Hey, I do know how to defend myself," she said, punching him playfully. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Of course. The blind ninja." He laughed.

Dimitri took her arm and escorted her over to the noisy group of her fellow classmates as they waited to get on the bus. He helped her navigate through the crowd until they had reached the front where her teacher was. After giving her another hug, whispering "Be safe," he left. Despite saying that it was nothing to worry about, Hannah was still a little nervous and wished he could come with her.

"Good morning, Hannah," a male, Indian voice said.

"Morning, Dr. Zitchell," she responded, turning to the voice. Dr. Zitchell was from India. He was about five foot eight, with black, graying hair, and blackish eyes. According to fellow students, he had 'a ton of wrinkles.' Not too surprising since he was in his late sixties.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" His voice was filled with concern.

"I'm sure. It's only one day. I'll be okay."

"Alright then." He wasn't convinced.

He helped her get into the bus and then went to check the other students in. Hannah walked up the stairs and sat in the seat right behind the bus driver. Perfect for her. No need to worry about a view and she would be far away from the noisy crowd that always congregated in the back. The cacophony they created gave Hannah a headache.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Meet the Crazies

"Okay. Is everyone set to go?" Dr. Zitchell asked towards the group in the back. Hannah could hear them all aleatorically say yes. "Good. Alright Fred, off to the asylum."

The driver, Fred, turned his key and the engine roared into life. From the sound of it, Hannah thought Dimitri's car was in much better shape. This one sounded like it would fall apart at the seams at any moment. Not a very comforting fact to know now that the bus started to move. Arkham was about an hour, more or less, away from Gotham University and that was an ample amount of time for something to go wrong. _Great. An hour in this death machine_, Hannah thought.

To distract herself from the now uncomfortable ride, Hannah took out her trusty Vi-Player from her bag and popped in the ear buds. Since she didn't have the option of looking out the window, music was her lifesaver. And it was also the only kind of art form she could actually appreciate since most of the other ones were visually based. The only other art she could enjoy was literature since the words could be translated into Braille or she could have an audio book. And she read a lot. From Shakespeare to Harry Potter, she read almost everything.

After about forty-five minutes of fearing for her safety, the bus slowly came to a stop. Hannah sighed with relief, and then put her music player away. She gathered up her belongings and waited for Dr. Zitchell to get everybody else's attention.

"Alright, people," he began. The noisy group fell mostly silent, waiting for instructions. "We have arrived at Arkham. Now I want you to be on your best behavior. Please concentrate on the task at hand. And please be safe. Make sure to have a staff member or guard present at all times and be respectful towards them. If they tell you to do something that concerns your safety, please do it. Now, let's go!"

Dr. Zitchell gently grabbed Hannah's arm and guided her off the bus. Once they were a little far away from the bus, he let go and went to help the other students. Hannah could tell from the various noises of the people coming out that they thought this assignment was a waste of time. They were sighing with frustration and groaning about how pointless it was. After the last annoyed college student came off the bus, Dr. Zitchell came back over to Hannah, took her arm, and led the way to the asylum entrance.

When Dr. Zitchell had first announced the assignment, Hannah had done some research just so she would know what to expect. According to what she discovered, Arkham was a fortress. With all of the security measures that were in place, the asylum seemed more like a military base than a home for the insane. Secure vault-like doors, guards and security cameras everywhere, and if you wanted to get anywhere, you had to have the correct identification. They seem prepared for war, not letting anyone in…or out.

Hannah's research was confirmed with every door the group was buzzed through and the endless amount of guards that were barking orders for the group to identify themselves. After going through three or four doors, they finally entered the inside of the asylum. Hannah could hear people talking, walking around, eating. _We must be in the cafeteria area_, she thought.

When Hannah lost her sight, her other senses became highly acute. She could distinguish objects depending on their sound, smell, or feel. She could even determine the lifestyle of people just by the sound of their footsteps. With her enhanced sense of smell, Hannah could distinguish the scents of the various foods typically found in hospitals and care centers. There was jell-o, meat sandwiches, cottage cheese, and juice. She could even smell the hint of bleach that they would use to clean everything. But the smell was barely there so apparently they hadn't done a thorough cleaning for a while. _Gross_, she thought.

Someone came walking towards the group. The footsteps seemed labored, like the person was exhausted, but the noise was somewhat cushioned so the shoes must be in good shape, possibly new. From this, Hannah could tell that they were somewhat wealthy but also worked too much. Most likely a workaholic.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum," a nasally male voice said. "I'm Dr. Jeremiah Arkham, the administrator of the asylum." _That explains the workaholic part_, she thought. According to her research, he was a lanky, tall man, about six foot one, with short, messy brown hair, and wore thick black glasses. He spent most of his time at the asylum, only clocking out after all the other day employees had gone home.

"Thank you for allowing us to come here," Dr. Zitchell responded, letting go of Hannah's arm to shake the doctor's hand. "I hope it hasn't caused much of an inconvenience."

"You're welcome," Dr. Arkham replied, shaking her teacher's hand. "And don't worry about it. We're always glad to help students who wish for a future in psychology. Nothing like first hand field experience to further their knowledge."

"Certainly. So, how would you like to proceed?"

"I think it would be best to have them split into groups, depending on their destination. Then the guards can lead each group safely to where they need to go and watch over proceedings. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a good plan," Dr. Zitchell said. Turning to the group, he announced, "Alright, everyone. We've already discussed where each of your assigned patients are located. Please get into groups depending on where you are stationed." Then, turning to Hannah, he added, "Hannah, you just stay right here."

"Ah, so this is the student that will be interviewing our very own insane clown," Dr. Arkham remarked, a smirk in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Hannah replied, nodding. She looked up in the direction of his voice.

"Now, you mustn't let him intimidate you in anyway. He's notorious for that." There was concern in his voice, but also slight amusement.

"I don't think that will be a problem," Hannah responded, holding up her cane. "Considering the fact that I can't see. And I will only be interviewing him for an hour at most."

"Regardless, you will have armed guards present at all times. He is not a man you want to underestimate." His tone was very serious as he said this. Hannah got the hint to stay on her guard.

After about ten minutes, everyone was situated into their groups, about seven of them, and were led away by guards. Hannah was escorted by two guards, one in front and one in back. They started out their journey in silence so she concentrated on their footsteps. From the sound of them, these guards were worked too hard and clearly not paid enough for it. The shoes squeaked with every step and the shuffling movement of their feet revealed that they were mentally and physically tired.

Eventually, one of the guards broke the silence. "So, why did ya choose the clown for this project?" the front one asked. His accent gave away that he grew up in the South.

"I actually didn't choose him," Hannah explained. "We drew names out of a hat and he was the one I pulled. It was just chance that I got him."

"Ah. So it was just bad luck on your part, huh?"

"Pretty much," she said, shrugging. "So, any special procedures I should be aware of before we get there?"

"We'll have ya sittin' three feet from the door of his cell. Don't go any closer 'cause he is the most dangerous man in this place. And we'll be beside ya at all times. If at some point he gets too excited, we'll stop ya and take a break so he can cool his head."

"Gotcha," Hannah said. "But is all that really necessary? I mean, this place has top security measures, especially where the Joker is. So why the extra measures?"

"Well, to tell the truth," the guard behind said. From his accent, she could tell he was British. "He has managed to escape quite a few times. One night, we go home after a long day and then the next morning, there is a dead guard in Dr. Arkham's office and his blood is smeared all over the walls in smiley faces and ha ha ha's. We found the clown sitting outside his cell, covered with blood, and a big smile on his face."

"Wow. Really?" Hannah said, shocked. She hadn't heard of anyone getting out of their cells at Arkham. _Is this guy an escape artist or something?_, she asked herself.

"Yeah. The weird part was that he never tried to escape the asylum, just his cell. Every time he would sit outside it, waiting for us to come the next day. And we could never figure out how he managed to get out. We constantly add more security measures but it never helps."

Hannah eyes' were wide open in amazement. She could believe it. "So you weren't kidding when you said he's the most dangerous man in here," she said

"And that's an understatement," the southern guard interjected.

The party fell silent for the remainder of their walk to the high security ward. They were buzzed through even more doors than when Hannah had entered Arkham. High security was no joke, although the Joker seemed to make a mockery of it. They walked on for about ten more minutes.

"Alright," the southern guard said as they came to a stop. "We're here. Would you like me to help you onto the chair?"

"Yes, thank you," Hannah replied. No sense in being rude when he's just trying to be nice. And how else was she going to find the chair.

The guard gently grabbed her arm and guided her to the said chair. His hands were rough and a little cold. She still had her coat on so she didn't notice the temperature of the building. But she did feel the temperature of the chair. Hannah shivered as she sat down on the cold metal. It didn't have cushions and the backrest was straight with sharp corners. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world but was probably cheap. Cut backs on the asylum's budget must have increased. No wonder the heat wasn't on. They didn't have the money.

Once she was sitting, she put her bag on the floor. She collapsed her cane and placed it in her bag, and then took out her laptop. She turned it on and opened an audio recording program that would tape the proceedings so she could review the interview later. Despite all of her years of computer experience, she wasn't a fast, accurate typist. It was best to just record the session and take notes later.

"Ready?" the British guard asked. Hannah nodded and took a deep breath to calm herself. After hearing the escape story, she had become a little more stressed about what could happen. She could hear the guard unlocking and opening the door as it screeched with the effort to move. An odd odor came wafting towards Hannah that smelled of sweat and grim. _Does he not bathe?_, she thought, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Now fellas," a gruff male voice said. The roughness of the sound made Hannah cringe a little. "I already told you I'm not into that kind of stuff. Why don't you ask Crane or Harvey? I'm sure they'll oblige" He chuckled.

"Cut the crap, clown," the southern guard snapped. "Ya've got a visitor."

"A visitor? Who?" Hannah heard the Joker get up and walk closer towards the bars for a better look. The sounds of his footsteps were of a man who has been through a hard life but still kept moving forward.

From what people told her, he was about six foot one, with green tinted hair, and a 'smile' made of two grotesque scars on his cheeks that almost went to his ears. He had a rather perplexing suit made up of a purple trench coat, a gray-blue suit jacket, a green vest, a blue hexagonal-patterned shirt, a strange green tie, purple pinstriped pants, wore brown shoes, and purple leather gloves. He usually wore make-up, having black around the eyes, red on his mouth and scars, and white messily applied to the rest of his face. Hannah had researched everything she could on him, which wasn't much. He had no past to speak of. The only record of him was all of the news reports on his terrorist activities in Gotham.

Now the Joker was clad in the standard orange scrubs of Arkham Asylum. He sat down Indian style right at the entrance of his cell. "A girl?" he said, his head tilted to the side in wonder. "This is so unexpected! Forgive me. I look horrible right now. They don't allow me to wear my makeup 'cause they say it promotes my 'insanity.'" The last word was layered in sarcasm.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Hannah responded, looking in the direction of his voice.

"Oh? And why's that? More into brains than beauty?" he joked, grinning.

"No," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "I'm blind so looks don't really mean that much to me."

"Blind, huh?" the Joker responded, chuckling a bit. "That's unexpected. But also explains why you're not staring at my scars. Everyone else only looks at my disfigured face so it seemed most…irregular." He turned his head and cracked his neck. Hannah could hear his tongue licking the corners of his mouth every once in a while, like a twitch.

"Well, now you know it's because I can't see them."

"Indeed. But it's also kinda disappointing," he sighed. "Finally finding someone who doesn't stare and then you learn that they can't see them anyway. So, what do I owe for this great honor of your visit? You've gotta be here for something since you can't see the freak show." His voice turned a little angry near the end. Hannah could feel his intense eyes on her.

She fidgeted a little and said, "My professor assigned us to interview a patient at this asylum to attempt to diagnose what is wrong with them. We drew names and I got you."

"Ah, a college student on a field trip to the nut house. How fun. So now you're gonna try and dissect my psyche?" He raised his right hand and twirled his index finger around his temple.

"In a sense, yes."

"Well, I'm telling you now, sweetheart, nothing _is_ wrong with me," the Joker stated, licking his lips. "I'm just ahead of the curve. I live in a world without rules. They're a contradiction to the system that made them but breaks them every waking moment."

"I'll decide that for myself after the interview," Hannah responded, trying to sound strong. The way the Joker talked was kind of freaking her out. The way it seemed to fluctuate constantly was just weird. "Now, I will be asking you a series of questions. This will go a lot smoother if you stick to the truth."

"And how, pray tell, will you know what is and isn't the truth, hmm? Are you psychic?"

"No, just really good hearing," she answered pointing to her ear. "I've studied the physical tells of lying. So I'll be able to tell by a change in your heart rate or a fluctuation in your voice." _Though his voice seems to constantly fluctuate so that might not work_, she thought.

"Intriguing! How delightful," he chuckled. "You're your very own lie detector. I'll bet it comes in handy with the lack of sight."

"That's the whole reason why I studied it in the first place," Hannah replied. "I've also learned to interpret the sounds of people's footsteps and know their lifestyles. Your hearing becomes highly sensitive when you lose your sight, along with your other senses."

"So your heightened senses are sorta your own personal super power, huh? I like that."

The sudden compliment from the Joker made Hannah feel slightly uncomfortable. Unsure of how to respond, she reached into her bag and pulled out another peppermint stick.

"What's that you got there?" the Joker asked, craning his neck for a better look.

"A peppermint stick," Hannah replied.

"Oh…can I have one?" He sounded like an excited little kid.

"Can he?" Hannah directed towards the guards.

"To be on the safe side," the British guard responded. "I would say no. There is no telling what he will do with it."

"Darn!" the Joker exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Ya caught me, Skippy. You foiled my plan for minty, fresh breath." He giggled hysterically.

Hannah also chuckled at this, but she quickly stopped when she felt the glares of the bewildered guards. Wanting to get out of the awkward moment, Hannah started the recording program and asked, "So, do you have any family history of mental illness?"

The Joker stopped laughing and responded seriously, "Does having a deranged, violent father count?"

"Most likely," Hannah said, a little perplexed. She took a mental note of his change in tone. "Could you tell me about him?"

"My father was a sadistic, control freak," he began, giving emphasis on the k. His licking twitch increased in speed. "Everything had to go his way or else. He loved violence like it was mother's milk…or alcohol, which helped to raise his temper."

"I see," Hannah said. _So he grew up in a violent environment_, she thought.

"Along with violence, he loved women. So every night, he would come home with a whore, not that we had the money for it but still. He would screw mother but she did the smart thing and left years ago."

"She left? Where did she go?" _Abandonment and neglect?_

"To heaven," he sighed, looking up toward the ceiling briefly. "At least, I would hope so. She was a nice woman. Tried to get my father to stop his violent ways. It didn't work too well though…" He paused for a moment. "Anyway, most of the time, the whores would run out of the house in tears and anger. They couldn't handle his games and didn't like that they wouldn't get paid for their trouble. Well, one night, I found it extremely funny so I laughed. No particular reason why, just that he couldn't keep a pro home for even one night was hilarious!" He started to laugh insanely. One of the guards hit the bars of his cell. The loud clang pulled him out of the moment. "Sorry fellas."

Clearing her throat, Hannah continued, "So you laughed. Then what happened?"

"The drunk bastard heard me and became angry," the Joker continued. Hannah could here his twitch increase even more. She could also hear his hands moving as he spoke. "He didn't like being laughed at too much. Not one bi-t. So he walks over to me and kicks me hard in the stomach. I keel over in pain, gasping for breath, not laughing anymore. He grabs me by the hair and drags me into the kitchen. I hear him rummaging through the drawers, looking for something. When he turns back to me, he's holding a steak knife. He glares at me and asks, 'So you think I'm funny? You think I'm something to laugh at?' He sticks the blade in my mouth and says, 'I'll give you something to laugh about!' And with one quick jerk, he slices my left cheek open, almost to the ear."

Hannah gasped. _Child abuse!_ "What happened next?" she asked.

"I screamed from the pain, making the cut rip more, and blacked out. The last I heard was his laughter as he left me lying there bleeding on the floor. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed with wires sticking out everywhere. There was a huge bandage on the left side of my face. I tried to open my mouth but it was clamped shut. So I touched the inside of my cheek with my tongue. I flinched a little from the pain as I felt the stitched up wound and tasted the copper flavored blood. "

Hannah cringed a little at the mention of the hospital. She didn't like them anymore. Not after her parent's murder. And it hadn't helped when the Joker had blown up Gotham General either.

The Joker seemed too caught up in his story to notice of her reaction and kept talking. "Apparently, the neighbors had heard me scream and called the cops. My father was taken to jail for child abuse, though I don't think it was enough." His tone turned malicious. "No amount of jail time would compensate for what he did." _I fixed that later though when he got out_, he thought to himself and chuckled.

"At least he paid for it in someway," Hannah said bitterly. "A lot of people are able to avoid paying for their crimes." _Like the people who killed my parents_, she thought.

"True," he replied, giggling. _She has no idea how I made sure he got what he deserved_, he thought_._ "I'm guessing you've had a bad experience with the 'justice' system?"

"Yeah, I did," she said curtly.

"Sounds like you got some pent up anger there. Would you like to talk about it?" He tried to sound professional.

"Not really," Hannah replied, a little peeved. _It's none of his business anyway_.

"Why?" the Joker asked curiously.

"Because it has nothing to do with you or this interview," Hannah said bluntly.

"Ouch! Talk about getting the door slammed in your face," he chuckled. "Aw, come on, doll face. There's proof that talking about it helps. Or at least, that's what all the crazy psychologists tell me. Makes sense that they would say that since they can't just prescribe something. Too lazy to go to medical school. Heh heh."

"I've already talked about it enough with those same people," Hannah responded angrily. She was getting really annoyed with him.

"Then one more can't hurt. And I won't be looking for what's wrong or how it makes you feel," the clown pointed out.

That was true, Hannah gave him that. "Are you ever going to let this go?" she asked.

"No, probably not." He shook his head.

Sighing, Hannah admitted defeat. "Fine, I'll tell you. But then we go on with the interview, alright?"

"Of course." She could hear the smile in his voice as he accepted his victory. The Joker shifted a little to get himself comfortable. He placed his hands in his lap and looked at Hannah like a toddler ready to listen to a good story.

Hannah cleared her throat and began, "One day, I come home from school and find my parents bound and gagged in the front room of our apartment. The mob goons in the room restrain me too before I can do anything. They take us to an abandoned warehouse where they beat us up and demand for their money back. I had no idea that my parents had even borrowed money."

"Uhuh. And how does that make you feel?" Hannah shot an angry glare in the Joker's direction. "Sorry!" He held up his hands apologetically. "Just a joke, girly. Come on, I gotta have some entertainment in this dump. Continue, please."

Hannah's annoyance was increasing every minute but she continued anyway. "Well, the mob boss wasn't satisfied with just the beatings since my parents couldn't pay. So he signals to one of his men. The guy walks over, pulls out a knife, and slits their throats."

"Really? How boring. He doesn't know how to savor the moment. Amateur." The Joker noticed Hannah's reaction of disgust and anger. He cleared his throat and said, "So what happened next?"

Hannah remained silent, glaring into space. She couldn't believe he would say something like that while she was talking about her parents' death. _He's a monster through and through_, she thought.

"I promise I'll be good," the clown said with a voice of innocence. _As I can_, he thought smiling on the inside.

Hannah sighed angrily, "Fine. So the boss then tells the killer to have fun with me before he kills me too. I try to escape but he catches me and throws me against a brick wall. The impact damaged my brain and caused my blindness."

"So you really had a bone to pick with him."

"You could say that," Hannah replied sarcastically. "I managed to escape and find a police officer who sends me to the hospital. His face was the last thing I ever saw."

"Who was the officer?" the clown asked curiously.

"Jim Gordon."

"The Commissioner?" he started laughing hysterically. "He's the last thing you ever saw? Oh man, I feel so sorry for you, doll face."

"It's not like I had much choice in the matter," she snapped.

"Ooo, snippy," The Joker was finding this very entertaining. "Are we in a bad mood today or is it just biological chick stuff?"

"No. It's just you," Hannah retorted. If he was going to be insulting, she was going to level the playing field.

"Yikes. Can I have some ice for the burn?" he snickered, acknowledging the insult.

The Joker's constant laughter was really getting on Hannah's nerves. "Do you want to know what happened or not?!" she asked angrily.

"Well, of course."

"Then stop joking around," she demanded.

"Asking me, the Joker, to stop joking around is like asking a lawyer to stop lying. It's…impossible." He changed positions and spread his legs out in front of him, resting back on his hands. "But I'll try to keep it to a minimum. Though I gotta tell ya, I probably won't succeed too well. I just find everything too damn funny!"

"Fine," Hannah sighed. "Long story short, I tried to prosecute the mob but since the police and courts were so corrupted, the evidence disappeared and no one went to trial. So now I don't trust the justice system. There, are you happy now?"

"Very," he smirked. "Thank you for telling me. So what's your next question, eh, doll face?" Hannah could hear him make a kissy face. The guards hit the cell bars again. "What?" the Joker asked, annoyed.

"Don't make rude gestures like that to a blind person," the southern guard demanded.

"I didn't know a kissy face was considered a rude gesture. Is that a southern thing?" he chuckled.

Hannah cleared her throat to break up the tension building up between the guard and the inmate. "Um, before we move on, were there any other traumatic experiences in your childhood?" The guard glared at the Joker but backed off. The clown chuckled and then turned to Hannah.

"Oh, I've got a million of 'em," the Joker replied. "But we don't really have the time for them all right now. Though I should tell you about Agatha."

"Please go on."

"After my dear old dad was sent to jail, I was put in foster care. Apparently I needed someone to look after me since I was still a kid. I didn't think so though 'cause I had been taking care of myself for years. Having a neglectful father will do that to ya."

"I can imagine why." _It seems like he was forced to grow up faster than normal_.

"Well, despite the good doctor's efforts, the left side of my face scarred to what it is now. Sadly, you can't see it for yourself in all its grotesqueness. But anyway, because I was 'damaged goods,' I traveled from home to home constantly. Some were loving places where they just didn't have the room. And others were hellholes where they only did it for the support money and I had to be pulled out of 'cause they wouldn't feed me. More woes to add to my growing list. And then there was Agatha," he paused, looking off into space.

"What happened with her?" Hannah asked.

The Joker turned back to Hannah and said, "Agatha was a sixty year old, religious freak. One look at me and she said I had sin written all over me. So she takes me home and starts to 'cleanse' me. She straps me to a chair and starts flicking holy water at me, chanting Bible babble. She did this every single day for an hour or more. I hated it!" The last sentence was full of anger.

"So what did you do?" Hannah inquired.

"Nothing. It was better than some of the places I had been in before. I had food, a bed to sleep in, and a roof over my head. Sure I complained a lot but I never did anything to leave. I'm not that stupid to mess up a good thing when it comes, even if there were bad parts. But all good things have to come to an end."

"How did it end?"

"One day, I come home and Agatha starts to head towards me to do her spiritual cleansing. I was a little nervous this time 'cause she had a different look in her eyes, almost sinister. She straps me to the same chair as all the other times but still something seems…off. Then she pulls out a knife, one of the few in the house. I look at her with a questioning look and she says, 'I heard you the other day, complaining about my hospitality," the Joker said in a squeaky woman voice. "How you were unhappy after all I've done to save your soul. I don't think you appreciate the Lord enough. I think you need to be happy about being here.' I look at her and shake my head, knowing that was never gonna happen. Living with her was like hell."

"So what happened?"

"She snaps and gets an evil, crazed look in her eyes. She walks over and points the knife at me. I've been through that song and dance before so I try to escape. Didn't work too well being strapped to a chair though. She grabs me by the hair and yanks hard to stop me from squirming. She sticks the dull blade in my mouth and says, 'You need to be happy here. Have a smile on at all times. Like this.' She rips the blade through my right cheek."

Hannah gasped. The Joker stared at her and continued, "Same as the last time, I scream, black out, and wake up in the hospital, only this time it was the right side of my face all stitched up. Agatha was sent to jail for child abuse. I get put back into foster care, only this time, I had a set of scars that make me 'smile.' Is that traumatic enough for you, girly?"

"Quite," Hannah replied, wondering how all that could happen to one person. It was too horrible to be possible. She couldn't believe it, but she was feeling sorry for the murderous psychopath.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Inside the Mind of a Killer

"So," the Joker said, breaking the awkward silence that followed the talk of his tragic past. He moved back to sitting Indian style and twiddled his thumbs. "What's next on the agenda, sweetheart?"

Hannah shook herself out of her thoughts of pity for the psycho in front of her. She still couldn't believe that all that horror and abuse could happen to one person without them killing themselves. But she sat before a man who had suffered it and survived…for the most part, anyway.

From what was said since the beginning of the interview, she couldn't quite decided what kind of insanity he possessed. She had narrowed it down to either him being a sociopath or a psychopath, which were very similar to each other with only a few differences between them. The only way she would know for certain was to keep diving into the depths of this murderous clown's mind. No longer was she just concerned with getting the project done. She really wanted to know what made him tick. "Um…you said earlier that nothing is wrong with you. Could you elaborate on that?"

"I live in my own world without the idiotic rules of our 'leaders.' I find them pointless so I don't follow them," the Joker said matter-of-factly. Hannah noticed that he had started to talk with his hands again.

"Why do you find them pointless?" Hannah asked.

"It's better to live without them. The fact that the government is so corruptible makes them pointless. They're just there to control the mindless masses that follow our ringleaders blindly. They're like sheep being herded to slaughter," the clown chuckled, closing his eyes. Then he opened them, stared at Hannah and said, "But I don't think you're one of them."

Hannah was a little perplexed. "And why do you think that?" she asked out of pure curiosity.

"You've seen the corruption first hand. What with the whole ordeal of your parents," the Joker replied. "That's why you're not like the…others." He glanced at the two guards who were on either side of his cell. They glared back at him. The Joker chuckled and then turned back to Hannah.

After thinking over the Joker's comment, Hannah said, "It is true that I've seen the corruption, but I still have rules, unlike you."

"That's because you haven't seen everything that I have," the Joker replied in a serious tone.

"And I never will," Hannah said, pointing to her eyes.

The Joker started cracking up. "Hahaha! So true! I like your sense of humor. Kinda dark and sadistic like mine." Hannah could tell that he was smiling from ear to ear, not just with his scars.

"Um, thanks…I guess," Hannah replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He still really creeped her out because she knew what he was capable of. Wanting to change the subject, she asked, "So, um, what exactly do you do in your world without rules?"

The Joker chuckled as he noticed Hannah's discomfort. _Oh how I love to mess with people's minds,_ he thought to himself as he replied, "I introduce anarchy and chaos to the system. If you saw, or in your case heard, heh, the news before I got put in here, that's what I do."

"So you murder and destroy to create chaos?"

"To put it frankly, yes," the clown affirmed. "I try to upset the established order so that the people have a chance to know the truth. I like to give them a choice to either embrace my world or suffer the consequences of theirs. But I just can't seem to get them to take my side. It's very frustrating." He sighed in disappointment.

"Well, that's easy to understand," Hannah said, getting his attention.

"Oh? And why's that?" the Joker asked as he raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"The chaos you make is an extreme way to upset the system," Hannah explained. "Murdering people and destroying property is a big step. It's too much of a leap to take for people unlike you. Why do you do it when there are other ways to go about the situation?"

"Because it's fun," the clown replied bluntly. He had a 'duh' expression on his face. "I love to watch the people squirm. The reactions I get are just priceless! I just can't get enough of all the little emotions that people show before they die. You get to see who they truly are on the inside." His twitch began to increase in frequency again, licking his lips like crazy. "And besides, blowing up stuff is a good stress reliever. And it sure does make damn good television. Heh heh. It's like the making of an action movie in your very own city. And it's perfect here in Gotham 'cause you have your very own masked hero to save the day. Though you people seem to fight Batman every step of the way."

"So do you," Hannah pointed out.

"Well yeah. But it's the villain's duty to mess with the 'hero.' And Batman is especially fun to tease." He smirked as he looked up toward the ceiling, remembering all the fun times he had with the caped crusader. _It was especially fun during that chase with Dent. I got to shoot at him_, he thought as he chuckled. _Too bad he was too chicken to hit me. But I'll get him to come to my side, soon. All I need is the right leverage to push him over the edge._

"Does that mean you see yourself as the villain?" Hannah asked, breaking the Joker from his thoughts.

"That's what society labels me as," the clown replied. He cracked his neck again and continued. "They say that the things I do are 'bad.' Socially unacceptable. So they say that I need to be locked up. And since I don't think the things I do are bad, they say that I'm 'mad.' So they put me in this nut house." He waved his hand above his head to signal that he was talking about Arkham.

_Why he uses his hands to speak when I can't see them is beyond me_, Hannah thought. "It sounds like you don't like it much here. I've heard that you've managed to escape your cell a number of times but never attempted to leave the asylum. Why?"

"I actually do kinda like it here. Free food, roof over my head, and a place to sleep at night. Way better than Agatha's place," the Joker replied. "Don't get me wrong though. There are some things that could be improved. Like the company could be better." He glanced at the guards again, licking his lips. "But other than that it's fine."

"Then why do you break out?" Hannah asked, perplexed.

"Do you know how boring it gets at night here?" the Joker replied. "Completely. Especially for an insomniac like me. Being awake all night gives you a _lot_ of free time. I gotta do something to amuse myself in the long hours after the lights turn off."

"Was the murder of a guard also part of amusing yourself?"

"Of course," the clown replied with a smile. "Stanley seemed like a fun guy so we played a little game. Unfortunately for Stanley, he lost. See, he thought there were rules to the game to protect what he values most, but with me there are no rules. That's why he lost, he had something to lose. But me, I never lose 'cause I have nothing _to_ lose."

Wanting to get the Joker off his tangent, Hannah asked, "Do you feel any remorse or guilt for the guard's death?"

The clown shook his head and chuckled, "No. Why would I feel that? It was just a simple little game. It was supposed to be all in good fun."

"So your violent actions are just for the fun of it?" Hannah asked, disgusted at what he deemed as 'fun.'

"That pretty much sums it up," the Joker replied, nodding. "Life can be so…boring. And I HATE being bored." The clown's tone became serious for only a second before turning back to his 'normal' chuckling self. "Creating chaos entertains me. And Batman adds to the fun by providing me with a challenge. He's just so fun to tease!" The Joker became as giddy as a schoolboy when he talked about the Batman. It made Hannah wonder what was going on in his head whenever the subject came up.

Just to see what he would do, Hannah asked, "What would you do if Batman wasn't there to challenge you?"

The Joker fell silent. He looked up at the ceiling, stroking his non-existent beard in thought. "Hmm…ya know, I never really gave it much thought. Ya see, I like to be in the moment more than thinking about the future."

_He doesn't think about the future?_, Hannah thought. "Does that mean you don't have any plans?"

"Of course not," the clown said, sounding offended that she would ask such a question. "Plans are for the schemers like the mob and the police. They all have their own little plans to control their little worlds. But me, I just do things. I like to go on a whim. Makes life more exciting and unpredictable."

"But surely you plan some of the time," Hannah said. _There's no way that all the things he did to this city were just due to improvisation._

"Why do you say that?" the Joker asked, cocking his head to the side like a dog.

"Take, for instance, the bank robbery at the Gotham National Bank near the beginning of last year. You had to have planned for that to get the people and equipment to pull that off."

"I'm a pack rat by nature, so I just had that stuff lying around," the Joker explained. "And those guys had done bank jobs before so no direction needed there. And besides, that bank job was pretty standard. Get in, get the money, and get out. No real plan."

"Just make sure that the others kill each other after getting the money, right?" Hannah said mockingly.

"Of course," the clown chuckled in confirmation. "Less baggage to carry during the get-away."

"Then what about the assassinations of Judge Surrillo and Commissioner Loeb?" Hannah inquired.

"What part of that is supposedly planned?" the clown asked.

"The poison in the Commissioner's alcohol and the car bomb," Hannah pointed out.

"Who ever said that was me?" the Joker asked with an innocent face.

"The fact that when the judge's car exploded, various joker cards came raining down," Hannah said matter-of-factly. "And also both the judge's and Commissioner's DNA, along with Harvey Dent's, were on the joker card attached to the deceased Brian Douglas. I know about the video you made with him. I've heard it."

"You sure have done your homework," the Joker said, smiling. "So what else do you think shows that I plan?" It was turning into a game for him.

"Posing as police officers during the attempt to kill the mayor."

"I found that group of cops," the clown claimed hastily. "They were so easy to ambush. Ever since Batman came, they've been getting lazy."

"I meant the gun routine sequence," Hannah asserted. "The goons you deal with are people I bet never were in a situation where they would learn that."

"The internet is a helpful resource," he said with a snicker. "One day, I got the idea to teach my minions all those different sequences. Thought it would make 'em classier. Didn't work too well though. But the ones who actually were pretty good at it came in handy that day. Merely a coincidence."

"Then what about the attempt on Harvey Dent when he claimed to be the Batman?"

The Joker sighed, "Ah, Harvey, Harvey, Harvey Dent. How I miss him so. See, he understood where I was coming from. I just wanted to pay him a visit. So I took some of the trucks out of my collection and went for a drive. Just a spontaneous outing that got outta hand."

"What about the destroyed fire truck that lead them down to lower Fifth?" Hannah asked, trying to find a chink in his armor.

"I saw a fire truck and thought it would be the ultimate irony to set it on fire. So I did," the clown replied, laughing at his idea of a joke.

"Ok…," Hannah said. _He seems to have an explanation for everything. _"What about the escape from the MCU? You placed a cell phone bomb in one of your thugs and set it off so you could get Lau and escape."

"I had done that a few days before. An experiment of mine for a new purpose for the pudgier ones of my bunch. Then, when I saw that he was caught, I decided to put him to good use. And when I saw Lau, he didn't look too happy there. So I decided to bring him to a place where he would be much happier."

"So burning him alive on a large mound of money was to make him happy?" Hannah asked, perplexed. She had read the report about how they had found the Chinese businessman's singed skeletal remains among the ashes of burnt U.S. currency.

"Of course," the clown affirmed with a smile and a nod "He loved money so much, I thought he would want to die with a whole bunch of the greenbacks. Ya see, I hate to see unhappy faces. I just want everyone to have a smile all the time, like me. But sadly, no one in this town has my sense of humor. They need to let loose. Experiment more. Figure out the truths of this world like I have."

"Truth is subjective depending on how you perceive the world," Hannah pointed out. "So, you may think you know the truths of the world but they may be different to the next person."

"Psh," the clown responded, waving his hand in a dismissive fashion. "Psychology babble. They think they know everything."

"Actually, they don't," Hannah retorted. "The researchers are constantly doing empirical experiments to explain what they observe in the world around them. They know they've only scratched the surface of the workings of the mind."

"Ok, smart pants," the Joker said, sarcastically. "Then explain this to me. If they don't know everything about the mind, then why do they conclude that I'm insane? Hmm? Solve that one for me, Sherlock."

"Do you see anyone else doing the things you do?" Hannah asked. She started counting off her fingers. "You blow up hospitals, kill people for no reason, and steal without a thought. You constantly test the moral limits of society."

"What can I say?" the Joker replied, smirking and shrugging his shoulders. He leaned back on him hands again. "I'm one of a kind. I'm what Rodya Raskolnikov would call 'extraordinary.' I live outside the law for the greater good of the people."

"And who is this Raskolnikov?" Hannah asked. "I've never heard of him."

"Why, he's the main character in Fyodor Dostoyevsky's _Crime and Punishment_, a Russian classic," the clown said, sounding shocked that she hadn't heard of the book. "You should read more."

"I do read," Hannah replied. "Just not Russian literature." She was a little surprised that he read. He didn't seem the type to sit down and read a book.

"Pity," the clown said. He shook his head and sighed in disappointment. "Dostoyevsky really knew the truth of society."

To get the interview back on track, Hannah said, "So you think you are this 'extraordinary' person Raskolnikov describes. You believe you are doing things for the greater good?" _Who in their right mind would think that?_, Hannah thought. _He is definitely crazy_.

"Yes, I do," the Joker replied, nodding his head. "They blindly follow our 'leaders' without knowing what goes on behind closed doors. I try to open those doors in front of society's eyes, revealing the truth to the masses, so they can see the hypocrisy of the rules created by the government. They speak of justice, but when it really comes down to it, anyone with a big enough wallet can get away with any crime."

"I can understand that," Hannah said with some resentment. "That's what happened with the case of my parents' murders. The mob got away with it because their men on the inside 'took care' of it."

The Joker nodded his head and said, "That's why I said you're not one of the blind sheep in this city. Your eyes are open to the truth, figuratively of course. Heh heh." He chuckled at his joke and then continued. "But the rest of 'em, they're lacking in that department. That's why I do what I do. I provide opportunities for the people to open their eyes to the craziness in following our taskmasters. While having a little fun on the way of course. Ha ha." He started giggling as he remembered the things he had done.

All the while, the two guards were glancing back and forth between the college student and the asylum inmate. They looked at each other with amazement and confusion. Not only did Hannah not seem afraid of the Joker, she was agreeing with him.

Thinking that it was time to end the interview before things got any weirder, the British guard interrupted and said, "Um, miss? It's been over an hour. We should be heading back now."

"Really?" Hannah asked, quite bemused. She hadn't realized that that much time had passed. "Wow. I didn't even notice."

"Time flies when you're having fun," the Joker interjected, smirking.

"True," Hannah replied. And it was. Strangely enough, she had found talking to the crazed clown quite easy. Even a little enjoyable. But that still didn't change the fact that he scared the crap out of her. She couldn't forget all the crimes he had committed or all the people he had killed. And all were just for fun. The only reason she had any comfort talking to him now were the bars and distance between them.

Hannah stopped the recording program and saved the file. As her computer shut down, she reached down and grabbed her bag off the floor. But when she tried to lift it up to put it on her lap, she found she couldn't. What she didn't know was that the strapped had somehow managed to get snagged on one of the sharp corners of the chair.

Since she couldn't see the problem, Hannah pulled on the bag with all her might. Suddenly, she found herself falling backwards as gravity pulled her down. With a crash, Hannah and the metal chair met the ground. Her head hit the hard concrete and the sharp metal corners of the chair dug into her back. Her bag had flown the other way, the contents of it spilling out everywhere.

The guards, who had been busy preparing to close the Joker's cell, reacted immediately. The southern guard ran to help Hannah while the British one quickly picked up her belongings, making sure nothing got close to the Joker that could be used as a weapon.

"Are ya alright, miss?" the guard asked in concern, bending down and pulling Hannah up by her arms.

"Yeah," Hannah replied, rubbing the back of her head. She could feel a lump forming, wincing a little as a throbbing pain started up at the point of impact. But it didn't hurt as much as the head wound that made her blind. "I'm alright." She dusted herself off as best she could.

"That was quite a hard fall you took there," the Joker said, also concerned. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Hannah responded. She was a little shocked by the criminal's show of concern.

The British guard walked over with her bag and said, "Here are all your things, miss." He placed the bag in her outstretched hands.

"Thank you," Hannah replied, slinging the bag onto her shoulder. She was still holding her laptop so she placed it in the bag as she checked to make sure everything was in there. After she was sure all her belongings were accounted for, she took out her cane and expanded it.

The British guard began to close the Joker's cell door again when the clown called out, "Wait! You never told me your name."

"Oh, sorry," Hannah said. She had been so caught up that she never mentioned it. "It's Hannah, Hannah Khent."

"Hannah, huh?" the Joker repeated. "What a lovely name. Thank you, Hannah. Your visit was most enjoyable. As you can imagine, I don't get many visitors. I'm not really a people person."

Hannah nodded her head and replied. "And thank you for cooperating with me."

"You're welcome. Bye bye then." The clown waved cheerfully.

"Bye," Hannah said as the guards closed and locked the cell door. She sighed with relief, glad that it was over.

The trio took up the same formation as before, with Hannah in the middle of the two guards. They started heading towards the cafeteria as the southern guard said, "I hope ya got what ya needed."

"I did," Hannah replied. The group fell silent for the rest of the walk back.

The Joker stayed sitting near the entrance of his cell until he was sure the group had left. Once he was for certain, the clown got up and dusted himself off. He then reached down and picked up a peppermint stick. While the guards were in a frenzy, they hadn't noticed one that had rolled into his cell.

As he laid down on his cot, the clown unwrapped the candy stick and started to suck on it. "See ya soon, Hannah," the Joker said to himself, smirking as he brought the peppermint stick to a sharp point.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Surprise!

The trip back from the high security ward didn't seem to take as long as it did before. The guards had kept silent the whole way back, most likely unsure of what to talk about with Hannah. They thought that the interview had gone a little too smoothly. Her reaction to the Joker was also slightly discomforting.

When they finally arrived back at the cafeteria, the southern guard announced, "We're here. Yer professor is just ahead of ya." His tone seemed a little impatient, like he wanted to leave her as soon as possible.

Sensing his attitude, Hannah quickly replied, "Thank you," and walked away from the guards. She already knew they had gotten back, but didn't mention it to them to avoid seeming rude. Hannah had heard the sounds of the people eating and the quiet buzz of them talking about five minutes ago.

As she headed forward, the familiar voice of Dr. Zitchell called out, "Ah, Hannah! You've arrived. Come, sit with us." He was sitting at one of the many tables in the cafeteria with one of the other students of the class. Everyone else was scattered around the room, discussing how their interviews went.

Hannah walked towards her professor's voice. He got up from his chair and walked over to meet her. He gently grabbed her arm and led her over to one of the chairs at the table. Hannah thanked him and then took her seat.

As she sat down, she noticed that the chair was the same type as the one she sat in for her interview. Cold metal with sharp angles. Hannah winced a little as she leaned back. Her back was starting to bruise from her fall earlier. But her head didn't hurt anymore so that was good. To avoid the same mistake, Hannah slung her bag on the back of the chair. _No need to embarrass myself a second time_, she thought.

Dr. Zitchell walked back to his seat and sat down. He politely dismissed the other student who got up and left to go sit with friends for the remainder of their asylum visit. He then turned to Hannah and asked, "How about some lunch, Hannah? We still have a few more people to wait for so might as well take advantage."

"Sounds good," Hannah replied, as her stomach growled in agreement. Dr. Zitchell chuckled and then got up to go get her a tray. She listen to him walk to the other side of the cafeteria and get into line.

As she waited for him to come back, Hannah went over the interview in her head. She slowly tallied up the symptoms that the Joker had shown. Just as she came to a conclusion of what she believed he ailed from, her professor came back with her lunch. He placed the tray in front of her and sat down. Sniffing the air a few times, Hannah said, "Ah, apple juice, a turkey sandwich, and…orange jello. Mmm. Lunch of champions." She smirked and then started to eat.

"I am always amazed with your heightened senses," Dr. Zitchell stated, in awe of her ability. "Truly remarkable."

Hannah laughed a little and responded, "They sure do come in handy. Like when I'm cooking, for example." She continued to eat as they spoke.

Dr. Zitchell's mouth fell open. "You cook?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes," Hannah answered, chuckling. "I learned it from my dad. He worked as an assistant cook at Japonais, a Japanese restaurant along the river. I would always help him make dinner when he and my mother got home from work."

"Wow," her professor replied, impressed. "But isn't it dangerous to cook when you can't see?"

"Don't worry," she assured him with a smirk on her face. "I always have someone watch me when I cook, just in case. Usually my friend Dimitri. Besides, I would need an assistant to hand me ingredients and such."

"Alright," Dr. Zitchell chuckled. "So how did your interview go? I hope it wasn't too frightening." Hannah could tell that he was curious to hear her reaction to the murderous clown.

"It actually went quite well," Hannah replied slowly as she thought back over the encounter. "Surprisingly enough, the Joker cooperated with me for the most part. There were a few rude comments in the beginning and at times he would go off on tangents, but other than that, I think it went well."

"Really?" Dr. Zitchell remarked, surprised. _How strange_, he thought. "That's very peculiar. He has a track record of running off any psychology clinician who came to study him."

Hannah was surprised to hear that. "Um…maybe it's because I'm just a student, not the real thing," she offered, shrugging.

"Perhaps," Dr. Zitchell said, skeptically. _I highly doubt he would make an exception for anyone in the psychology profession, even if it were a student. Something is not right here._ He came out of his thoughts and turned to Hannah again. "So what is your diagnosis?"

"As I think back over it," Hannah replied, her eyes looking toward the ceiling briefly as she thought back. "I think he is a psychopath. Or, to be technical, he is suffering from antisocial personality disorder." She said the last part with sarcasm. It seemed somewhat ridiculous to her that they kept changing the names of the various disorders.

"Uh-huh," Dr. Zitchell said. He did not seem at all surprised at her answer. "Would you care to explain why you have made this diagnosis?"

"Why not," Hannah responded, shrugging her shoulders. She cleared her throat and then began to explain. "At first, I was between thinking he was a sociopath or a psychopath. After all, they share about fifteen of the same characteristics."

"Such as?" Dr. Zitchell asked so that he could test her knowledge.

_A teacher to the end_, Hannah thought, smirking to herself. "Well, he has a grandiose sense of self," she explained. "He thinks of himself as 'extraordinary' as a character named Raskolnikov put it."

"Raskolnikov?" Dr. Zitchell inquired, bemused. "As in Dostoyevsky's _Crime and Punishment_?"

"Yes," Hannah confirmed. "He said it was a Russian classic that really showed how people truly were."

"Interesting," he said with a hint of disbelief. "I never would have taken him as one for reading." He leaned on the table and rested his chin on his hand. "So, what else?"

"Well, the criminal aspect is apparent from all the things he's done," Hannah continued. "And when I asked him if he felt guilty for what he had done or felt any remorse at all, he said no. So that shows that he lacks a sense of remorse, shame or guilt for his actions."

"That would also show that he lacks empathy as well," Dr. Zitchell said. "Please continue."

"One of the biggest things I noticed was that he hates being bored. That's basically why he does what he does, to entertain himself."

"Ah. So he has a need for stimulation," Dr. Zitchell remarked.

"Yea," Hannah replied. "A constant stream of it." She sighed in a kind of annoyed way as she remembered what the Joker had done to entertain himself during the interview. It made her a little anger as she thought about it. _He was being such a jerk_.

"Alright. Let's move on to what makes him a psychopath."

"Well, he claims to not plan but I don't buy it," Hannah explained. "His crimes appear planned in at least one way or another."

"So you believe that he is organized in his crimes," Dr. Zitchell stated.

"Yes, I do," Hannah replied.

"Okay. What else?"

"He seems charismatic and charming," Hannah replied. Then she hesitated for just a moment before she said, "Strangely enough, I actually felt comfortable talking to him at times." _But then I would remember what he was capable of_, she thought to herself.

"Really?" Dr. Zitchell inquired. He sounded a little concerned at what she said.

"Um…yeah," she responded, regretting that she had even mentioned it. She felt a little uncomfortable with how her professor reacted.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled as he gazed into space and thought, _Well, people are more prone to trust a psychopath than a sociopath upon the first meeting_. He turned back to Hannah and said, "So what else classifies him?"

"Well um, when he brought up the Russian book, he showed that he is more educated than first thought," Hannah continued, glad to be past the slightly awkward moment. "This, plus the fact that he has been extremely difficult to catch without the Batman's help, supports my opinion that he plans. He uses his knowledge to blend into the crowd, leaving only enough evidence so that we know that it was his doing but no leads to where he is. It's like he's just toying with the cops, rubbing it in their faces that he can easily slip through their fingers."

"Hmm," Dr. Zitchell muttered. He stroked his chin in thought and then said, "I think I'll need to take a closer look at this case. Could you please send me a copy of your notes from the interview?"

"I'll just send you the interview itself," Hannah answered. She reached down into her bag and took out her laptop. As it booted up, she said, "I recorded the interview for later reflection on it. I'll just send you a copy to your email."

"Ok. That's even bett-"

Before he could finish, Dr. Zitchell was distracted by a sudden commotion that had started up near the entrance to the cafeteria.

"What on earth is going on over there?" he said as he craned his neck to see the cause.

Hannah listened to the metal chair legs scrape along the concrete floor as several people were getting up from their tables to get a better look. The usual quiet buzz of conversation was slowly growing in volume as they tried to figure out what was going on.

"Hannah," Dr. Zitchell said suddenly. Hannah turned toward his voice as he continued, "I'm going to go see what is going on. Please stay here until I get back."

"Alright," she replied, knowing that she did not care enough to go over there and listen. As she waited for her teacher to come back, Hannah sent the audio recording of her interview with the Joker to Dr. Zitchell's email. With that done, she turned off her laptop.

She had just finished putting away her laptop when Dr. Zitchell came back. He sounded somewhat stressed and worried as he said, "Hannah, please gather your things. We need to get everyone together and leave now."

Hannah was about to ask why when there was gunfire where the commotion was. There were people yelling and running away from the gunmen now, scared for their lives. With no need for more of a reason, Hannah slung her bag onto her shoulder, grabbed her cane and navigated her way to her teacher.

"Leaving so soon?" a familiar gruff voice asked as the doors to the high security ward swung open. Hannah found that she could not move as she listened to the Joker walk over toward her. She was petrified with fear, her only movement was her body trembling. "But my dear, the party has only just begun," he continued as he grabbed her arm, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

Seeing her opportunity, Hannah took advantage of knowing the Joker's exact location. She swung her cane in the direction of his voice. The Joker was caught off guard and did not have enough time to react. He had an expression of shock and angry on his face as the aluminum stick made contact with the side of his head. Hannah's blow made the cane bend at the point of impact.

Knowing that the cane was useless now, Hannah dropped it as the Joker staggered back. He had underestimated her. _Pretty skillful for a blind chick_, he thought as he rubbed the bump that was now forming on his head.

"Hey!" someone yelled at Hannah. It was one of the Joker's thugs, part of his posse that had come to spring him. He was Caucasian, about five foot ten, overweight, and completely bald. He had seen what she had done and he did not sound too happy about it. As he came closer to Hannah, he exclaimed, "Don't hit the boss!"

Hannah tried to run from the goon but he grabbed her from behind, locking her arms in his fists. He was working toward getting both of her arms in one of his hands when Hannah decided that she had enough. She kicked up her leg toward the thug's head.

After her parents' deaths, Hannah had started taking self-defense lessons, learning hand and weapon combat. She had no desire to repeat what happened that fateful night when she could not protect her parents.

The goon's face had an unpleasant meeting with Hannah's foot. At the impact of the limb, he loosened his grip on her arms for a moment. That was all she needed as she wrench herself free from his grasp. She aimed a roundhouse kick toward his head again with success. Then she made a sucker punch to his groin. Simple but effective. Finally, she dropped down to a crouching position and swung her leg at the back of the thug's knees, causing him to fall to the floor hard.

Once the goon was down, Hannah sprang back up, prepared for another attack. She listened hard for any movement, but all she could hear were the others struggling against the thugs, guards trying to gain control, girls from her class shrieking. The sounds disrupted her concentration.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind, latching a strong arm around her. She tried to struggle free but who ever had her was too strong to shake off. Hannah was getting ready to aim another kick when her captor whispered, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Hannah immediately froze. The one that had her pinned was the Joker himself. She began to tremble in fear of what he would do to her. Finally, she plucked up the courage to ask, "H-how did you g-get out?"

"A master never reveals his secrets, silly," he replied playfully, stroking his hand across her neck. A cold shiver shot down her spine at his touch. The Joker chuckled at her reaction and whispered, "By the way, thanks for the candy." His minty breath wafted towards her.

Hannah was dumbfounded. _I didn't notice at all_, she thought._ How did he get one?_ She was about to ask how when a cloth was placed over her mouth and nose. A somewhat sweet scent came from the cloth as she breathed in. Hannah's eyes opened wide with panic as she thought, _Oh crap! It's chloroform!_ She tried to get the cloth away from her but the Joker had her arms pinned tight. After a few breaths, she could not fight anymore.

The Joker pulled the cloth away as Hannah went limp in his arms. He effortlessly hoisted her up and slung her over his shoulder. Turning to the beaten up thug who had just gotten up off the floor, the Joker ordered, "You. Pick up her bag and cane. We're taking her with us." He then started to head towards the entrance of the asylum.

The goon quietly picked up Hannah's belongings. He had been in the Joker's services long enough to know to not question his orders. But the newbie who had not seen her beat up the more experience thug had not learned that yet. He turned to the Joker and asked, "But why are we taking her?"

The Joker stopped in his tracks and quickly grabbed the young goon's gun, pointing it at his head and cocking the trigger. "Because I said so," he replied angrily. He quickly re-aimed the gun and shot the boy in the thigh. The young thug fell to the floor, screaming and grabbing his leg in pain.

"Grab him and get to the van," the Joker said to yet another of his men. The man nodded, slung the boy over his shoulder, and walked out the entrance.

"Well ladies and gentlemen, it's been fun," the Joker addressed to the entire room. "But I really must be going. There are so many things to do. A city to destroy, Batman to bother. My schedule is quite full. I hope you've enjoyed this surprise. May the rest of your day be a 'blast!'" And with that, the clown prince of crime strolled out of Arkham Asylum with Hannah still draped over his shoulder.

"Good job, boys" the Joker said happily once everyone was in the van and they were heading to headquarters. "A most successful and profitable escape."

"Excuse me, boss," one of his men said. "But what do you mean by profitable?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied as he chuckled and looked down at Hannah who was in his lap. He smiled as he opened the back door to the van and looked back at Arkham. Slowly, he counted down, "Five…four…three…two…one!" BOOM! BOOM! Bombs started to go off at the asylum. The Joker nodded approvingly at his fireworks show. The only good use the asylum was for in his opinion.

The Joker closed the door and then said, "Boy! Tonight we celebrate!" The van was soon filled with cheers.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Captive of a Mad Man

"How could you let this happen?!" Dimitri yelled in frustration as he stood up quickly and slammed his fists down on Commissioner Gordon's desk. He had hit it so hard that various objects and paperwork flew off onto the floor.

"Please calm down, Mr. Alvarez," Gordon pleaded as he picked up the fallen items and placed them back on his desk. He looked up at Dimitri's face. It was full of rage and anxiety.

"Calm down?" Dimitri replied with anger in his voice. "How can I calm down when she's out there somewhere with that…that freak?!" He sat down suddenly and buried his face in his hands. Gordon could only watch him, not knowing how to comfort him. He remembered when he had picked up Hannah that night of her parents' murder. It was not often that he knew the victim beforehand, but since that was the situation, he did not know what to do.

After a while, Dimitri looked up again and ran his fingers through his short, black hair. "I just can't believe that he took her," he said, sounding like he might cry. "Why? She's blind. What could he possibly want from her?"

"That's what we want to try and figure out," Gordon stated, trying to sound as calm and professional as possible. He sat down in his wooden chair and turned to Dimitri. "Is there anything that she has that you think would be of interest to the Joker? Anything valuable or a special ability of some sort?"

"Well, she can cook really well," Dimitri offered until he saw Gordon's expression of doubt. "But that's not really a reason to kidnap someone. Um…she can defend herself. She's taken self-defense lessons since freshman year. And she still helps out at the places she learned at, like fighting with the other kids for practice and such."

"Hmm," Gordon muttered as he took in the information. "That might be something. Her professor did say that she put up quite a fight when the Joker and his thugs tried to catch her. I guess he was impressed so he might have taken her just for that. Is there anything else you can think of?"

"Well, the only other thing I can think of are her heightened senses," Dimitri said. When he saw Gordon's look of confusion, he quickly started to explain. "She has very acute senses that allow her to figure out her surroundings. Like she can tell what she's eating by its smell or even the ingredients in food by tasting it. And her hearing helps her when she fights. She also told me that she can read people just by listening to them."

Gordon thought over what he had just learned. "Alright, Mr. Alvarez," he said after ruminating for a short while. "You've helped us a lot. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Dimitri replied. "If there is anything else I can do to help, just tell me. And please call me Dimitri. When I hear Mr. Alvarez, I can only think of my dad."

"Alright, Dimitri," Gordon said, chuckling a little. "Now, this officer will escort you home." He signaled to one of the cops in the room.

As a young, black officer came over, Dimitri blurted out, "Wait! I want to stay here and help!"

"Mr. Alv…Dimitri," Gordon asserted. "The best way to help right now is to go home to your family and let us do our job. We'll contact you if anything changes."

Dimitri nodded reluctantly in agreement and followed the officer out of the building. Gordon watched him leave with an air of dejection and worry. He could sympathize with the boy but he needed to go home. The Commissioner leaned back and rubbed his temple as he thought, _I'm getting too old for this_.

"What have you got for me, Gordon?" a rough voice suddenly called from the shadows. Gordon jumped as Batman walked out of the gloom and into the light from his desk lamp.

"Geez," Gordon said as he tried to steady his heart. He had expected Batman to come but ever since the police had to start chasing him, he did not come as often. And when he did, it was when Gordon least expected it. "Nearly gave me a heart attack. Do you have to do that?"

"Sorry," the dark knight growled. "So what's the situation?"

Gordon sighed as he said, "The Joker has escaped. This time not just from his cell but from Arkham altogether. He blew up the asylum as he left, killing many of the people there, both patients and staff. The bomb squad is still checking the scene as we speak. And he kidnapped one of the college students who were visiting there."

"Visiting Arkham? Why?" Batman growled with suspicion in his raspy voice. Gordon was always a little bothered by the caped crusader's voice. He knew that the man was trying to keep his identity safe but he sounded like someone who desperately needed a cough drop or some water.

"A class assignment for a group of students from Gotham University," the Commissioner explained as he once again refrained from asking Batman if he needed anything for his throat. "They were to interview and diagnose their assigned patients. A girl named Hannah Khent was charged the Joker. Apparently, the clown found something of interest in her. So when he escaped, he took her with him. We've already informed and questioned the next of kin, which is actually her sort-of foster family. Her parents had been murdered when she was in junior high. She had been friends with the Alvarez family for years so they took her in."

Batman became silent for a while, assessing what he had learned. Then he looked to Gordon and asked, "Is there anyway to find out what went on during the interview between the Joker and the girl?"

"Her professor, Dr. Zitchell, has a copy of the recorded session. Right now he is in the hospital in critical condition. He suffered major burns and damage from shrapnel when the bombs went off. But he was able to give me access to the file." He held out a USB drive to Batman. As the dark knight took the flash drive, he continued and said, "Unfortunately, the guards who escorted her died in the explosion."

Batman nodded his head and said, "I'll see what I can find out."

With that, the caped crusader vanished back into the shadow without a sound. It was like he had never been there. Gordon sat there, scratching him head in wonder. "How does he do that?" he asked aloud. But no one was there to answer him.

Hannah woke up in a small, bare room. The walls and floor were made of concrete and there was garbage strewn everywhere. There was a high, grungy glass window on the wall to her right and a closed, wood door to her left. She was lying on a queen size bed with dark purple cotton sheets covering it. Hannah blinked as she slowly remembered that the darkness would not go away. But she knew that it was not night because she could feel the heat of the sun on her.

Groggily, Hannah turned from lying on her side to on her back. The motion alerted her to the slight pounding of her head. She brought her hands up and started to rub her temples. _Where am I?_, she thought to herself as she laid there._ I remember waking up and getting a ride from Dimitri. Getting on the bus to Arkham. Interviewing the Jok-_

Hannah suddenly sat up as she remembered that the Joker had captured her. But her abrupt movements caused her stomach to churn. She fell back on the bed as a wave of nausea washed over her. Hannah placed her hands over her mouth to keep herself from puking.

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't throw up in my bed," a gruff voice called from the far corner. "I just changed the sheets and don't feel like changing them again anytime soon."

The Joker was sitting quietly on a plastic lawn chair in the corner with his head propped up on his hands and his elbows resting on his legs. He was clad in his hexagonal shirt, green vest and tie, purple pinstriped pants, and worn, brown shoes. His face was once again covered in his signature war paint. Black surrounded his eyes, making them seem hallow and menacing. Some of the excess paint ran down the creases on his face due to sweat, enhancing the effect. A crimson red was smeared along his mangled scars and mouth, emphasizing his permanent 'smile.' White was unevenly plastered on the rest of his face, making the black and red pop out more. His greasy green hair fell haphazardly around his face as he stared at Hannah.

To prevent more nausea, Hannah slowly sat up and scooted away from the direction of the Joker's voice. When her back met the concrete wall that kept her from backing away anymore, Hannah brought her knees up and hugged them to make herself as small as possible. She kept her attention on the Joker, waiting for him to make his move. But he only sat there, staring at her with his piercing brown eyes. She could feel his intense gaze boring into her.

The room became silent as the captor and the captive focused on each other, waiting to see what the other would do. When the Joker did not say or do anything for what seemed like an hour but was only ten minutes in reality, Hannah took a deep breath and spoke up, "W-where am I? Why have you brought me here?" Her voice shook as she spoke, revealing how nervous and scared she was.

_Look at how she cowers in the corner but still tries to put up a brave front. She's like a small, frightened animal…like a bunny or something in front of a wolf,_ the Joker thought to himself. He smirked as he thought of all the ways he could threaten her and get her to show her fear to him. _This is going to be fun_.

"To answer your first question," the clown prince said as he leaned back in his chair. "You're at my hideout. Or to be more specific, my bedroom." He let the information sink in. Hannah shuddered as he spoke, making the Joker smile villainously.

_This going to be really, REALLY fun!_, he thought to himself as he continued. "As for your second question, you have certain…abilities that I find interesting and possibly useful. I was taken by surprise when you fought back. Never expected a blind girl to take a whack at me."

He chuckled at the memory as he got up from his chair and walked toward Hannah. Then his voice turned suddenly dead serious as he said "But that wouldn't be something I'd advise you to do again. I have this awful temper and I just can't seem to control myself sometimes…well, all the time. But if you don't piss me off, you'll live longer."

The Joker sat down on the corner of his bed, watching Hannah try to make herself even smaller. _I just want to disappear_, was the only thought in her head. She wanted to get out of there in fear of what the Joker would do to her. Since she had researched him for the class assignment, she knew what he liked to do to his victims. He had this complex about his scars and whenever people stared at him in fear, he immediately thought it was because of the scars. So in order to stop them from looking, he would tell them of how he got them and use them as a demonstration. Hannah did not want that to happen.

"Why are you so serious, chicky?" the Joker cooed. "I know it can't be the scars since you can't see them. Are you scared of little old me? You don't have to worry your little head off right now. I'm in a very good mood. Just don't mess that up and you'll be fine. Think of yourself as my guest. Just don't try to escape. That would be bad manners." He giggled at what he said.

Hannah could only sit there, looking in the Joker's direction. Even though he said that she just had to not make him mad, she did not find much comfort in the advice. She knew that he had sudden mood swings that were completely unpredictable. _How can I be sure that I won't tick him off when anything could flip his switch_, she asked herself.

The room had fallen silent as the two were once again waiting for the other to make their move. Then, suddenly, Hannah's stomach growled and broke the silence. She looked down and blushed deeply. _What a time for it to grumble_, she thought in embarrassment. Here she was, in the clutches of the most dangerous man in the city, and her stomach growls.

Hannah looked up as the Joker started to laugh insanely. The hysterical giggling grew louder and louder as the clown lost control of himself. He fell back on the bed and started rolling around, lost in his laughter. Hannah could only sit there and wait for the Joker to get a hold of himself again.

The clown prince of crime's giggles slowly died down. He laid still on the bed until he could actually speak between the fits of laughter. Then he turned to Hannah and said, "Hee hee! Sounds like my guest is hungry. Hahaha! Let's get you some breakfast. Can't have my new prize dying from starvation."

The Joker quickly stood up and grabbed Hannah's arm, dragged her off the bed. He pulled her up to her feet and started to yank her along. Hannah tried to free herself from his grasp but that only made him grip harder. She realized that it was pointless to fight and let the mad man hale her out of his room.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Breakfast of Champions

In the outskirts of Gotham City near the river, a black Lincoln Town car slowly pulled into an empty lot. The lot only contained a few storage containers, scattered sheets of metal and garbage, and was surrounded by a chain link fence with 'No Trespassing' signs everywhere. The vehicle rolled to a stop in front of one of the storage containers and the driver's side door opened.

An elderly man of about seventy six years of age, six foot two, with a medium stature and gray hair came out of the car and closed the door behind him. The man was Alfred Pennyworth, long time butler of the famous Wayne family. After the death of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, he now took sole care of Bruce Wayne, renowned playboy of Gotham. But the public did not know that he was also the butler to the masked vigilante known as the Batman, Bruce's alter ego.

Alfred strolled over to the door of the container and unlocked it. He walked inside and closed the door behind him. The floor began to lower and he entered the temporary Batcave. Wayne Manor had been burned down to the ground when Ra's Al Guhl tried to destroy all of Gotham. The mansion was now under construction as well as the main cave but for now they used this one.

The butler blinked and squinted a little as his eyes adjusted so the bright lights of the secret chamber. He spied Bruce across the room and sighed. Usually, the young man would be dressed in a fine pressed suit, his short brown hair combed back, and have a girl on each arm. But that is only the image presented to the press in order to keep his 'hobby' a secret.

Despite his efforts to keep Bruce's public image as a prim, proper, and privileged youth, the butler still had to witness the young billionaire subject himself to the nightly terrors of Gotham's scum in order to keep some sense of safety in the criminal infested city. The young master was now in quite a state at the moment. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and over working himself, he needed a shower badly, and most likely had not eaten anything since the previous morning.

As he started to walk towards Bruce, Alfred noticed that the young man had not heard him coming in. He was wearing headphones, listening intently to something. The butler made his way over to where Bruce was sitting in front of an arrangement of computers and other gadgets. He did not notice Alfred until he was standing right beside him, making him jump.

As he took off his headphones, Bruce said, "You scared me, Alfred." _Now I know how Gordon feels_, he thought as he tried to settle his heart.

"Forgive me, Master Bruce," Alfred replied with a chuckle and a smirk. He pulled out a thermos from his pocket and started pouring some coffee for Bruce. "What were you listening to so intently?"

"An interview a student had with the Joker," Bruce explained as he took the coffee from Alfred. He took a sip before continuing. "The clown kidnapped her as he escaped Arkham yesterday. I'm listening to it to see if I can find out why."

"Have you checked the girl's background?" the butler inquired. "Knowing you, probably yes."

Bruce chuckled and nodded his head as he started to relay what he had discovered about the girl. "Her name is Hannah Caine Khent, born in the outskirts of Gotham on April 20, 1989 to Gerald and Caroline Khent. She lost her parents and her sight when she and her family were kidnapped by the mob during her seventh grade year. But due to corruption in the force, no one was brought to trial and the case was dropped. After that, she moved in with the family of her childhood friend, Dimitri Alvarez, and moved on through high school and is now currently enrolled at Gotham University."

Alfred sighed as he said, "Sounds like the typical background of everyone in Gotham, I'm afraid to say. Despair and trouble with the mob."

"And it seems to be becoming worse every day."

"But it has been getting better," Alfred offered.

"Yes," Bruce replied. "Ever since the Joker was locked up, the mob lost their trump card. But now that he's out again, I fear that he'll bring the city back to the state it was in before."

"That just means we will have to get him back into custody as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that's easier said than done."

"Yeah," was all Bruce could say in response.

To move on, Alfred asked, "So what would she have that makes her 'special' and worth while to the Joker?"

"From what Dimitri had said to Gordon in the station," Bruce explained. "She can defend herself very well despite her handicap. I heard that she initially managed to fight off the Joker's men before he captured her himself. He also said she has heightened senses that aid her in everyday life. I've researched about this phenomenon and it seems quite common."

"Yes," Alfred confirmed. "Usually when one of the five senses are lost, the others grow more acute in order to make up for the one that is missing. So in Hannah's case, her hearing, taste, smell, and touch would become more sensitive to compensate for the lack of sight."

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Those are the only reasons that I could find that would tempt the Joker to kidnap her. The only other explanation would be that he just felt like it."

"So what have you learned so far?" Alfred inquired.

"Nothing that would help with locating him," Bruce replied. "But I don't expect he will stay hidden for long. It's not in his nature to wait around and do nothing."

Alfred nodded and said, "Then I guess for now, we must play the waiting game."

The Joker dragged Hannah down the hall and into the living area of his 'lair.' Just like in the bedroom, the walls and floor were bare concrete and various bits of garbage were strewn everywhere. The room was quite bare but there were several pieces of furniture. There was a wood cabinet that housed a television, DVD player, and numerous movies. There were two worn couches, one of red leather and the other of some brown fabric, with several coffee tables placed on the sides. And one lone purple lazy boy chair that seemed to be the newest piece of the mix-matched set.

Hannah was forced to plop herself down on the purple chair as the Joker said, "There. The best seat in the house. Especially since it's mine." He grinned happily as Hannah just stared up in his direction.

"Um…thanks?" Hannah replied, unsure of what to say. She was making an effort to be as polite as would be possible in this kind of situation, keeping the Joker's warning in mind. Although she knew that keeping him in a good mood would be hard, she wanted to do as best she could to keep him from turning angry and violent.

"So what would you like for breakfast?" the clown prince asked as he strolled over to the kitchen area. There was a fridge, a stove/oven mix, various cupboards, and a somewhat suitable amount of counter space.

"Let's see what we've got," the Joker said as he opened the fridge and peered inside. "We have some milk…a few eggs…beer…left over take out. Hmm. Not much." He closed the fridge and started rummaging through the cupboards. "Empty boxes of cereal… cookies… pancake mix… opened bags of chips…hmph. What sounds good?"

Hannah's mind was searching through all the recipes she knew to see if there was anything that could be made with the ingredients available. Then something clicked and she said, "Well, if you have a skillet, a spatula, and some butter, we could make pancakes."

"Pancakes?" the clown questioned in disbelief. _No one has ever suggested pancakes before,_ he thought to himself. _Though, the others never stayed long enough for breakfast anyway._ He turned and found what she had said would be needed and placed them on the counter. "I've never made pancakes before," he spoke aloud. "This should be fun." Then he slowly turned towards Hannah with a mischievous smirk on face as he said, "But I'll need a cute assistant to help me."

The Joker cackled as he stalked over to Hannah and yanked her off of the chair, pulling her into the kitchen. His hand left Hannah's arm for just a moment as he left to go get something from a cupboard. Before she knew it, the Joker was back beside her. "And what would make the picture complete?" he rhetorically asked as he put something over Hannah's head. "A cook and his assistant in the kitchen wearing…aprons!"

Hannah felt the apron as the Joker tied the waist string behind her back. To her dismay, she found that the apron was covered with frilly lace and ,even though she couldn't see, she knew it was most likely a bright bubble gum pink. With this discovery, Hannah sighed in annoyance. Pink and lace wouldn't have been her first choice.

Of course, the Joker noticed her reaction and responded, "I guess that one isn't your preferred style but I don't think you're one to 'Kill the Cook.'" He chuckled as he look at his own apron that had the word 'kiss' replaced with the word 'kill' in his own signature handwriting. "And besides, weren't you the one who said looks didn't matter much?"

_He has a point_, Hannah admitted to herself. She decided that the look of the apron didn't matter enough to complain. Especially since the reason why she was wearing it in the first place was more of a worry than having to wear lace.

"So," her captor uttered as he broke her out of her thoughts. "What else would we need for this venture into the world of pancakes?"

Hannah went over the recipe again in her head and then recited, "We'll need the pancake mix, milk, and eggs. A mixing bowl and a spoon or whisk. And plates and forks for when we're done."

The Joker went about to find and gather the ingredients and cooking implements she had listed. As he was doing so, the door to the living room opened as some of his goons walked in, back from a night of criminal activity. They were all talking and laughing about the fun they had had last night.

When they saw Hannah and their boss in the kitchen together, they all stopped dead in their tracks, stunned. None of them had ever seen him in this state before. The Joker took no notice and continues on with what he was doing.

Finally, one of his men plucked up the courage to speak. "Um…b-boss? W-what are you doin'?" the goon asked wearily. He, like all the others, never knew what would set their boss off on a violent rage. Luckily, the Joker was still in a good mood. The thought of making pancakes was making him happy.

The clown prince turned to his men and faked a look of surprise to see them all there. Then he giggled as he replied, "Why, isn't it obvious? My guest and I are going to make pancakes."

His response was met with looks of shock and disbelief. The most dangerous man in Gotham was nonchalantly making pancakes. Not something you would see everyday. In fact, never except for right then.

The same man who had spoken before was so shocked that he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Can I have some?" He quickly slapped his hands over his mouth as soon as the words were out of his mouth but it was too late. The question had been asked. All the others were staring at him in disbelief, thinking that he had guts, but in fact just an empty stomach.

"Hmm…I don't know," their boss muttered as he playfully thought over the question. Then he turned to Hannah and asked, "What do you think, Hannah?"

Hannah could feel all eyes on her as she slowly answered, "Well, since I'll be mixing and you'll be cooking, I think it would only be fair if he cleaned the dishes. Then it would be fair to let him have some."

The Joker rolled his eyes at her answer of fairness and then said towards his men, "Alright. You heard her. If you find some way to help then you can have some." The men sighed in relief and then asked Hannah what they could do to help.

Despite her situation, the fact that she was in a kitchen cooking again helped Hannah to forget the danger she was in. She was able to calm down and be herself. With the comfort of a whisk in her hand, she said, "Since we're going to be feeding more people, then someone will need to go get more ingredients." The Joker signaled to some of the men to go off to the store. The others busied themselves with collecting plates and setting up the table.

The Joker chuckled a little at the sight of his men helping to make pancakes. _Now this isn't something you see everyday. The 'bad guys' having a 'family' breakfast._ Then he turned to Hannah as she was mixing the ingredients she had and asked, "So Hannah, since we have time now, will you tell me the story about your parents in more detail in exchange for more from me?"

Hannah stopped mixing as she thought. Then she slowly replied, "Um…sure. Why not?" She then started to tell him about that terrible night as she continued to mix together the ingredients.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Birthday Outing

Two weeks had passed since the Joker escaped from Arkham, taking Hannah with him. All of Gotham knew of the girl's kidnapping and were all keeping her in their hearts. The Alvarez family was doing all they could to try and find where the Joker was keeping her, especially Dimitri. They held press conferences and other such events, anything they thought would help. They even had help from Bruce Wayne, who kindly donated his time and money to sponsor the events they held.

As was expected, the Joker started up his usual antics of robbing banks, destroying property, and driving Gotham to wits end. His disfigured face was plastered everywhere on newspapers, magazines, and television. But there was no news of Hannah. The clown kept her locked up good and tight.

With every passing day, the scum of the city was growing more bold and violent. The GCPD was working double shifts in an attempt to keep the criminals in check. But with the Joker's escape and recent activity, newfound confidence spread throughout the criminal underground that made the job seemingly impossible.

Gordon sighed as he leaned on the side of the MCU roof. He had not been home for God knows how long and was so tired that he felt like he would collapse from exhaustion at any moment. Being the Commissioner was a very demanding job. The roof was the only place he could find some peace and quiet for how ever brief of time. He glanced down at the street below, watching cars drive by and people hurrying home. _The good people of Gotham don't deserve this madness,_ he thought to himself as he watched.

He turned away from the side to head back down to his office, but jumped as Batman suddenly advanced from the shadows. The roof had been a usual meeting spot for the masked vigilante to get into contact with the Gordon. But with the skeletal-like remains of the Bat signal still on the roof, it was a grim reminder that the once esteemed dark knight of Gotham was a wanted man.

_I don't think I'll ever get used to that_, Gordon thought as he steadied his heart. As he watched Batman slowly approach, he said, "I'm guessing you found something."

The caped crusader nodded as he growled, "I've listened to the recording you gave me. The Joker makes it clear that he finds her interesting. He even asks questions about her past, making her feel some sense of familiarity with him. As the interview progressed, she seemed to have become comfortable talking to him."

Gordon was surprised to hear that. _Someone could actually become comfortable talking to him?_ "How comfortable?" he asked tentatively.

"Enough to not notice the time passing," Batman replied. "The guards had to inform her that her time was up. She also agreed with him on certain points. Such as not trusting the police."

Gordon sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I can understand why she couldn't. At the time of her parents' murder, the mob's men were already everywhere. They infiltrated the police force and the DA's office. The evidence for the crime either was lost or contaminated. The prosecution might have been able to survive just on Hannah's testimony but with her loss of sight, she couldn't make a positive ID. A blind girl's testimony doesn't hold much credit in court so the case was dropped." He shook his head in disappointment at the memory. The dark knight remained silent.

An awkward silence fell over the pair as they both withdrew into their own thoughts. Each was trying to brainstorm any possible ideas of what the Joker was planning. When he still couldn't think of anything, Gordon finally broke the tension as he asked, "Did you find out anything else?"

Batman nodded again. "I looked over the security tapes from Arkham and discovered how he managed to escape." Gordon was surprised but he kept silent to hear what the caped crusader had found. "On the numerous occasions that he broke out of his cell, he planted bombs at several locations. They were placed in areas that didn't raise suspicion. Over the course of the months that he'd been there, he managed to set up enough to blow up the asylum."

Gordon was confused. He looked at Batman with a befuddled expression on his face as he asked, "If he already had enough, then why did he stay?"

"It was a game to him," Batman replied. "He wanted to see if the staff would actually find any of them."

"But they never did find anything," Gordon stated. He shook his head and ran his hand through his short brown hair. Then he looked up at Batman again and asked, "If he could have left at any time, why did he suddenly decide to escape now?"

"The girl," the caped crusader responded bluntly. "She gave him the tool he needed to escape."

"What?!" Gordon retorted. He stared at Batman with disbelief. "But how?"

"When she was leaving to go back to the cafeteria, she fell over and the contents of her bag spilled everywhere. The guards were too distracted to notice a short stick-like object roll into the Joker's cell. They just gathered her things, locked the clown in and left."

"What was it that he had?"

"From the analysis of the residue on the lock," Batman explained. "It was a peppermint stick. The tape clearly depicts the Joker picking the lock with it."

Gordon was shocked. _Did he use to be an escape artist or something?_ _If he could use a piece of candy to break out, what couldn't he use to do the same task? _He had an inkling that the Joker used to be in the magic profession before he turned to crime. He looked back at Batman and said, "I'm guessing though that you didn't find out anything that could lead us to his hide out?"

The dark knight shook his head in silence. Gordon looked down and sighed. "He really is another class of criminal to be able to do the things he does and still disappear into the shadows. I hope we can find him soon, for Hannah's sake."

He looked up but Batman was already gone. "Typical," Gordon said as he rolled his eyes. He turned and went through the roof door to return to the madness below.

Hannah once again managed to wake up unscathed in the Joker's bed. Ever since he brought her to his hide out, he insisted that she sleep in his bed with him. "For safety from the more impulsive ones of my men," he would say. He never really tried to do anything to her, but the fact that she was sleeping next to the Joker every night didn't provide much comfort.

It seemed like an eternity since the clown had first kidnapped her, but in reality it was just two weeks ago. The days spent there seemed like routine now. The Joker and his men would leave her there for the day…with supervision of course. The clown would always leave one of the more senior members of his goons to stay behind with her, knowing that the younger ones might get the idea of playing with his toy while he was out. So Hannah would be left there relatively alone while the Joker was out, wrecking the havoc and mayhem he had in mind for the day.

The closing of the door signaled that the start of Hannah's boring day had commenced. After the pancake fiasco, Hannah was charged with cooking duty and she was happy for it. Just being in the kitchen made her stay there somewhat livable. But cooking only took her mind off things three times a day so the rest of the time she was left to entertain herself.

For the first two days, she occupied herself with listening to her Vi-Player, which was sufficient…until the battery died. She didn't have her charger and it felt weird to tell the Joker about it so that option was out.

Her laptop was off limits. The clown didn't want to risk her trying to contact anyone. This seemed stupid to Hannah. _Even if I were to contact someone, I wouldn't be able to tell them where I am anyway._ So that was another option out the window.

The only other thing she had to do was to listen to the movies that her supervisor watched. Not very fun when you can't see what was happening during the action sequences. So Hannah would just sit in the Joker's room, trying to see if she could fall asleep to pass the time. This worked for a day or two but she soon became antsy. Being cooped up all day and night was not something she usually did.

To relieve herself from her pent up energy, Hannah resorted to practicing her martial arts. It turned out to be the most fruitful of her endeavors. She felt free as she practiced her punches and kicks, yelling with each thrust of her full strength.

Of course, when she first started this, the goon watching over her freaked out. He was a portly man with graying hair and no chin. Fearing that she was trying to escape, he ordered Hannah to stop. But after she explained to him why she was doing it, he hesitantly said yes, on the condition that she would stop before the boss came back. He didn't know how the Joker would react to her practicing and he didn't want to find out in fear for the worst. So Hannah agreed to his condition. She was just happy to have something to do during the day again.

In the evening her captor would return from his daily fight for the souls of Gotham, usually covered in blood. Hannah always got a good whiff of it when the Joker would come up and hug her tightly every time he came back. She didn't particularly like it. Not just because it was the Joker but also because the blood made her feel sick. The pungent iron smell infiltrated her nose mercilessly every time, making Hannah want to barf.

_But what can I do,_ she thought to herself. _Ask him to stop? No. That would just land me with a knife stuck in me or something. And that's what I've been trying to avoid this whole time._ So she just let the Joker do what he pleased, really not wanting him to turn violent towards her.

Hannah laid there, listening to the noises of the morning. Other than the usual sounds of far-off screams and honking of horns, mornings there were surprisingly quiet. They would all sleep in until ten, unless the Joker had an early morning heist planned. Today was not one of those days so Hannah listened to the clown's steady breathing as he laid sleeping beside her. He didn't seem as scary now but she knew that once he woke up, the usual murdering psychopath would appear once more.

The Joker stirred in his sleep and woke up. Hannah pretended to still be asleep as he stretched his arms, his purple silk pajamas rustling as he moved. Despite her attempt, the Joker knew that Hannah was awake. So to mess with her, he scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her red cotton nighties that he had brought her to wear.

From the sudden contact, Hannah froze. She could feel the Joker's muscular body on her back, his chest rising and falling as he breathed. Her mind started to race. _Oh my god. W-what is he going to do to me?_ All of the scenarios that popped into her head made her shiver with fear as each one was worse than the last.

Sensing her discomfort and fear, the Joker giggled maniacally. Hannah cringed as the clown's diaphragm bounced against her back with every 'ha ha ha!' that escaped his mouth. Her reaction only made him laugh harder. _This is just so much FUN!_ he thought.

When he had his fun and Hannah learned to not react to him, he leaned towards her ear. Hannah could smell his foul breath and feel it on her cheek, making her cringe. The Joker hovered there for a short while until he whispered, "Happy birthday, Hannah."

Hannah gasped. She had totally forgotten about her birthday. _Is it really the twentieth?_ she asked herself. The Joker just snickered at her, still breathing in her ear.

The two of them stayed that way for a long time. Hannah lying there, shocked at her forgetfulness for her own birthday and the Joker with his arms latched around her waist, nuzzling his head into her hair.

Hannah was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the Joker. He soon became bored of that so he decided that it was time to stop 'cuddling' and get ready for the day. He had a special surprise for his toy.

The clown pulled her up by her arm and hauled her out of bed. Hannah already learned to not resist him, she knew that whatever she tried wouldn't work on him. He would just laugh with every kick or punch and still be able to grab her again.

So she let him drag her into the bathroom. Unlike the rest of the house, the bathroom was the only place that was actually somewhat clean. Other than a few stray smudges of face paint and hair gel, the counters and mirror were sparkling clean. His various cosmetics were organized on the white counter, going from white to black to red to green, in the order he would apply them.

The toilet and shower were also in the same state. His numerous shampoo bottles were all in one corner, most of them unopened. He didn't shower much, only when he felt like it, which wasn't very often. Hannah had found more use for them than he did.

The Joker made Hannah sit on the toilet with the lid down. "Stay right there, Hannah," he cooed. "I've got a present for you." He left her there with a chuckle as he went to get her gift.

Hannah could only sit there and try to imagine what a mad clown would give someone for their birthday. _Body parts? Poison? Recordings of loved ones begging for mercy? _Her thoughts just ran wild with predictions.

She didn't have to deal with the suspense for long because the Joker was by her side once again. He placed a rectangular box on her lap. It was about two and a half feet long and a foot and a half wide, a box you would usually use for clothing. Hoping that that was all that was in there, Hannah slowly tore through the flower-patterned wrapping paper. She got enough off to open the lid and lifted it up.

Placing the lid on the floor, Hannah cautiously felt what was in the box. There seemed to be something made of cotton in there. She felt a shirt, some socks, a pleated skirt, and…were those new converse sneakers? Upon further inspection, she confirmed that they were.

Hannah was shocked. It seemed that he had given her an outfit. Not what she expected at all. The Joker just chuckled at her reaction. She turned towards him and muttered, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he replied. "Why don't you try it on?" Hannah's expression turned worried until he said, "I promise I won't peek." And with that, he laughed and closed the door that separated the shower and toilet from the rest of the bathroom.

Hannah was still sitting there in confusion at what was happening. She jumped as someone knocked at the door. The Joker's voice came through as he said, "I'll be coming in there in five minutes whether you're dressed or not so if I were you, I would hurry up." He cackled as he heard Hannah start to quickly get dressed, not wanting to be seen naked.

As promised, the Joker opened the door in five minutes time, already dressed for the day in his signature purple suit, but not in his make up yet. Hannah was sitting on the toilet tying the laces on her new shoes. She looked up towards him as he walked in and stood up.

Hannah was clad in a form-fitting v-neck, sleeveless shirt, a short black plaid, pleated skirt, black fishnet gloves, black knee-high socks, and new black high-top converse sneakers. The Joker inspected her outfit, making sure everything was in place as Hannah just stood there nervously. She wondered what it would be for, if anything.

For about ten minutes she stood there, waiting to see what the Joker was going to do. He finally spoke up and said, "Hmm…almost perfect. You just need a little bit more to make this outfit complete. Come with me." Hannah followed him as he pulled her over to the counter.

"First off," he announced. "We need to do something with that hair." Hannah looked towards him with confusion as he reached for his green hair gel, chuckling. He squirted some in his hands and then started to smear it into her hair. Hannah could only stand there as the clown slowly added streaks of green in her wavy brown hair.

"There," he said as he finished. "And to keep it out of your face." He grabbed a hair tie and pulled Hannah's hair up in a high ponytail, getting everything but the bangs in the front. Then he stood back and examined her once again.

"Hmm…there's still something missing. What could it be? Oh, I know!" He giggled with glee as he grabbed his black cream make up and ordered Hannah to close her eyes. Hannah stood as still as she could as he applied the make up to her eye area, not caring if it was neat or not. Once he was done, he put the make up down and inspected his creation with a big grin. _Like the Barbie doll I never had_.

All the while that the Joker was accessorizing her, Hannah wanted to ask him a question. She finally plucked up the courage to ask, "Why are you doing all this?" _There has got to be a reason for all this fuss._

The Joker snickered as he answered, "I'm taking you with me today. Gotta make sure you're presentable before going out in public. Speaking of which, I need to do that myself." He then turned to the mirror and began to apply his war paint, humming cheerfully while he did it. Hannah just stood there and listened to him as he progressed from applying the white to the black around his eyes and finally the red on his scars and mouth. When he was done, he turned to Hannah with a smile and said, "There we are. Ready for the day. And now it's time to go. Lots to do!"

With that, the clown dragged Hannah out of his room and down the hall to the living room. When they entered, all the goons looked up and ogled at her new outfit. Hannah could feel their stares but not for long because the Joker gave them an evil glare, making them all drop their gazes in fear.

He led her into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets. Finding Hannah a granola bar, he handed it to her and said, "You'll have to eat on the road. We have an appointment to keep." He snickered and then turned to his men and announced, "Boys! We're heading out." They all got up and started shuffling out of the room to the trucks below.

The Joker grabbed Hannah's arm and pulled her out the door. They turned right, went down a hall, and then down some stairs. All the while, Hannah was making a mental note of the way they went. She counted her hurried steps to the different turns and the number of stairs so that if she had a chance, she could escape.

Finally they turned right again through a door to the alley in the back. Hannah breathed in deeply, rejoicing at having fresh air in her lungs again. She felt free again just being out in the open. But the Joker didn't let her live the moment for long as he pulled her along.

The clown helped Hannah into the back of a white van and had her sit down on a bench that was installed inside. After making sure that everyone was in, he closed the back, sat down beside her, and barked at the driver to head off.

With a turn of the key, the engine groaned into life. Feeling brave, Hannah sarcastically asked, "What? No semi?"

The Joker chuckled and replied, "No. We want to be subtle today. Don't want your surprise to be ruined!" Hannah remained silent for the rest of the ride.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Mad Man's Gift

Alfred was making himself some lunch when Bruce strolled into the kitchen. Having served the young man all his life, the butler could differentiate his moods. And right at that moment, his young master was in the first happy mood he had seen him in since the Joker escaped.

"Care for a little lunch, sir?" he asked, already making another turkey sandwich with all the fixings.

"I guess I have no choice," Bruce replied with a chuckle as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted it open as he sat down at the black marble counter facing his long time butler and friend.

As he spread some mayonnaise on a slice of wheat bread, Alfred asked, "So what has put you in such a happy mood at the moment?"

"I think I've narrowed down where the Joker's hide out might be," Bruce responded slowly with a little hint of uncertainty. It was as if he was still in disbelief of the possibility of actually finding the Joker's location. The mad man was normally impossible to find.

"Really," Alfred remarked, also in a state of skepticism. He was somewhat shocked, so much so that he stopped finishing up Bruce's sandwich for a moment.

"Yeah," Bruce said. "If my information is correct then he should in one of the abandoned apartment complexes out in the slums. I'm going to go scout the area there tonight to see if I can find Hannah and possibly rescue her from the Joker's clutches."

"That is wonderful news, sir," Alfred answered with a chipper tone as he handed Bruce his sandwich. "I really hope you can find her. One minute with that man is bad enough but for her it's been two weeks already."

"Yes," Bruce proclaimed as he took a bite of his lunch. "It's high time that Hannah was brought home."

After driving in the van for about half an hour, the birthday posse stopped at yet another abandoned building. Broken windows, spray paint tags on the wall, trash everywhere, etc. It resembled the one that Hannah and her family were taken to on that fateful night.

"Alright, boys. You know what to do," the Joker said to his men. They all filed out of the van and headed into the building.

Hannah was getting really curious about what was going to happen but she didn't have the courage to ask her captor about it. She knew he wouldn't tell her anyway. He didn't want to ruin the surprise. _At least I don't have to worry about my parents getting dragged into this_, she thought optimistically. But then she remembered the Alvarez's and began to freak out at the thought of Dimitri gagged and bound to a chair.

The Joker led her through several doors and hallways until they finally entered a large room that already was occupied by a few people. The walls were brick and the room was filthy with not much lighting. As the rest Joker's men filed in behind them, the other people in the room walked over.

One of the men in the other group said, "What is this? A costume party?" He was wearing jeans and a loose black shirt. His pals laughed at the joke as they stared at the clowns in front of them.

"Why, yes! It is," the Joker replied, ignoring their jibe. "Didn't you get the memo? But don't worry, heh heh. We can fix that." With that, the clown snapped his fingers.

In an instant, the Joker's men had the others in their control and proceeded to tie them to some folding chairs that were just lying around. When all was secure, the Joker said, "There. Now you're ready to get into costume." The bound men looked at him with confused expressions. The Joker frowned. "Hmph. It seems we have a dumb crowd today. Oh well. We'll just have to educate!"

"Now," he continued. "I called you here today to celebrate this lovely girl's birthday." He gestured to Hannah who was standing nervously to the side, shifting her weight from one leg to the other and staring at the floor. She looked up towards the Joker as he began to speak again. "It's her golden birthday this year and I think she deserves something…special. And you, my dear sir, are that very thing." He directed that last part to the man who had spoken before.

"Why me?" he asked in a tone of annoyance and confusion.

"Why?" the Joker retorted. "Because, Blade, you were the one who took everything away from her those many years ago."

Hannah's eyes shot wide open at the discovery that the bound man was none other than the one who had killed her parents and caused her to lose her sight. His appearance was a little aged now but the curved scar on his face was still there. She gasped as she stared from the Joker's direction to Blade's with an expression of anger, surprise, and horror on her face. The clown had given her the man she hated most in the world as a present.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Blade yelled angrily.

The Joker was about to reply when Hannah spoke up. "Y-you killed my parents. You slit their throats one by one as I watched helplessly. And then you came to 'play' with me and threw me against a brick wall. The impact made me blind. I lost my parents and my sight all in one night…because of you." Her voice was full of anger and she was on the verge of tears as she spoke of the past.

"What are you…Oh wait, now I remember. You're that kid of those people who borrowed money from the boss. The one who got away. You kicked me in the balls!" he screamed.

"Really?" the Joker interjected. "Nice going, Hannah! Hahaha heehee haha! She beat you, a full-grown man, as a little girl with a concussion. You must really suck! Hahaha!" He just kept laughing and snickering at the fact that Hannah had beaten him. Hannah couldn't help but smile as well. It was pretty funny as she thought back on it.

Blade was going to speak up when Hannah cut him off. "How did you find him?"

"Well," the Joker replied as he walked over to Hannah. He led her over to Blade as he spoke. "After you told me your story, I had some of my men look for a man who fit the description. It didn't take very long. I mean, come on. How many people have scars on their faces? Well…besides me. Heh heh. I would have gotten you the boss too but I think Gambol has learned his lesson already."

"You figured out who the mob boss was too?" Hannah asked with shock.

"Why, yes. It wasn't too hard to figure out. We had history…a short history. He left shortly after our last encounter, partly seeing my point of view." He chuckled as he thought back to when he had given the mob boss a permanent smirk by carving only one side of his face. _Ah, good times._

Blade was going to speak again but this time, the Joker cut him off as he continued. "Now, Hannah, this is my special gift to you. He's yours. Do what you will. You can finally get revenge for your parents' deaths. Finally have the justice that was denied you. All you have to do is reach out and take it."

Hannah didn't have to be told twice. She did a roundhouse kick toward Blade but missed, not knowing his exact location.

"What the hell!" the captive cried. That was all Hannah needed as she aimed another kick, her foot meeting the side of his head with success. Blade fell over onto the floor, spitting up some blood.

But Hannah wasn't done yet. She started to aimlessly kicking him again and again as he laid there, defenseless. Hannah put full force into every blow, thinking of everything that had been taken from her. For her mother. _Kick._ For her father. _Kick. _For her sight._ Kick._ And for all the evil he had ever done. _KICK!_

After about twenty minutes of pummeling the murderer, Hannah slumped onto the floor in exhaustion with tears in her eyes. Blade was just a limp body tied to a chair on the floor; his breaths shallow and labored and bits of his blood were everywhere.

"Bravo," the Joker chimed as he clapped to Hannah's act of violence. "A magnificent performance. Even Batman would have been put to shame with that. Hee hee!"

He strolled over to Hannah and pulled her to her feet as one of his goons lifted Blade up to sit in his chair properly. The beaten man's head rolled forward limply as he sat there, unconscious. Hannah felt a little sick as she breathed in the iron smell of his blood. As she had kicked him, some had gotten on her new outfit.

"I think you're ready for the next level, Hannah," the Joker said. She looked at him with confusion. _Next level?_ As if reading her thoughts, he continued, "Blind him, Hannah. The ultimate revenge. He took your sight so take his. An eye for an eye in the literal sense." He snickered at his joke.

"B-but how?" she stuttered.

"With this," he replied, placing one of his knives in her hand. She stared towards him in horror. Kicking was one thing but, as the Joker put it, this was another level.

"I-I can't!" she exclaimed.

"Sure you can," the Joker asserted. "Here, let me show you how." He grabbed her hand, making her grasp the knife.

One of his men tilted Blade's head up towards them. The bound man opened his eyes a little as he regained consciousness, only for his eyes to fall on his namesake. The blade glinted in the pale lighting of the barren room. He tried to struggle free but he was stuck on the chair with a goon holding his head firmly in place.

The Joker moved Hannah's hand to and fro in front of Blade, making him sweat and fidget in fear. Hannah tried to free her hand but the clown had a firm hold. In one quick motion, the Joker thrusted Hannah's hand forward, causing the blade to plunge into Blade's right eye.

He screamed at the searing pain as blood squirted out of his eye socket. The crimson fluid sprayed all over Hannah and the Joker. She started to gag as the iron smell penetrated her nose, making her want to puke. Some even managed to get into her mouth. That was the last straw. Hannah leaned forward and threw up all over Blade. What little breakfast she had was now in his lap.

The Joker paid no attention as he pulled the knife out of the right eye and thrusted it into the left. Blade screamed again as more blood spurted from his skull. Hannah was close to fainting from the combination of the smell of blood and the shock of the situation.

After twisting the knife a few times, the Joker pulled his bloody tool from Blade's head. He stepped back to admire his work as Hannah leaned against his frame, trying to regain control of herself. Blade was still screaming from the pain as the clown looked at him with a smile. Hannah found herself questioning whether he was human or not despite the fact that she could hear his heart pounding in his chest with excitement.

"And now for the final act," the Joker announced.

Hannah looked up towards him in horror. _What more could he do to this man?_ Despite Blade being who he was, Hannah found herself feeling sorry for him. Even he didn't deserve this torture. "What are you going to do?" she asked in distress.

The clown giggled as he said, "Not me, silly. You."

"Me?" she said hesitantly.

"Yes, you. You're going to kill him," he cackled.

Hannah couldn't believe it. "N-no. I-I can't do that. Never!" she refuted.

"Ah, but Hannah, you just beat and blinded this man. Killing him is just the final stage."

"NO! I didn't blind him. That was you! You did it!" she retorted.

"But you were the one holding the knife therefore you did it. Hee hee!" he giggled as he held up her hand. The knife was still in her grasp.

Hannah could only shake her head in disbelief. _I didn't blind him, he did. He did, not me. _She started to hyperventilate as the stress of the situation built up.

Sensing her emotional state, the Joker pushed her to her limit as he said, "Let me help you. It's not as hard as you would think." He grabbed her hand again and brought it towards Blade again. It was all too much. She fainted in the clown's arms.

The Joker gently laid Hannah down on the ground and then turned to Blade. "Well, she might not be able to do it, but I sure can." The building filled with the screams of a dying man.

A few hours later, Hannah woke up on the red leather couch back at the Joker's hide out. She sat up quickly as she remembered what happened before she fainted. _I already knew he killed people but to be there first hand…that's a different experience_, she thought.

"It seems you're not at my level just yet," a voice said. Hannah turned towards the Joker who was sitting in his purple chair with his coat off. He was shuffling a deck of cards as he sat there.

"I don't think anyone would be at your level if that's what it takes," Hannah uttered as she listened to the fluttering of the cards.

"Not true," he retorted. "Batman is almost there. He refuses to kill anyone, even me. I just need to find something that will push him over the edge that is so close he can taste it."

Hannah shook her head. "You're wrong. The Batman would never stoop to your level. He's better than that."

"Now you're the one that is wrong." His tone was serious. "He's not as pure as you might think. His slate is not clean just like everyone else's in this town. There's always some dirt that lingers after its cleaned."

Hannah was about to talk back when the Joker said, "Go to sleep. It's been a long day full of excitement. But tonight you sleep on the couch." And with that, the clown left the room.

Hannah listened as he walked down the hall and closed his door behind him. She waited to see if he would come back. But after twenty minutes, the Joker didn't return.

Seeing this as her chance, Hannah tiptoed to the door and quietly opened it. She crept into the hallway and closed the door behind her. Thinking back to the morning, she recounted her steps down the corridor until she reached the stairs. Slowly, she navigated her way out of the building, taking care not to get lost.

Finally, Hannah found the door to the alley behind the building. Keeping her hand on the side of the building, she slowly made her way to the street. Before she stepped out onto the sidewalk, Hannah listened for any moment. Once she thought it was safe, she started to walk to the right along the sidewalk.

Batman was scanning the streets for any sign of the Joker's men. For hours, he had been searching for the clown's hide out but to no avail. He was starting to loose hope when he spotted some movement on the street.

_What is that? _he thought. He had seen a lot of people on the street but the way this one walked was strange. It was like the person couldn't see where they were going.

Swooping in for a better look, Batman watched the mysterious person from the roof of a short building. Whoever it was was clad in all black, which made it almost impossible to see them in the shadows. He waited until the person walked into the light of a street lamp.

Batman gasped as he realized that the person was none other than Hannah. _How did she get away?_ To find out, he glided down to meet her.

Hannah heard the strange noise and reacted with a kick. Batman caught it, making Hannah fall over. She freaked. "Please don't hurt me!"

"Hannah," Batman growled. "It's alright. You're safe now."

Hannah looked toward him with uncertainty. "W-who are you?"

"I'm Batman."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Returning Home

_"…will be held tonight. Mr. Wayne's charity party is expected to be a success._

_Four men were found brutally murdered last night. Their cheeks were cut open and one of them had his eyes gouged out. A note was found stabbed into the body, which reads, 'How do you like my costume?' Although the police will not confirm with us at this time, the Joker appears to be a prime suspect for the case._

_In other news, Hannah Khent, the girl who was kidnapped by the Joker two weeks ago, was found last night. Although she did not appear to be injured, she was taken to the hospital for observation. And after she speaks with the police of her ordeal, she is expected to be reunited with her family once more…"_

The Joker clicked the television off in annoyance as he sat in his purple chair in the clothes he had worn the other day. He had been in a foul mood ever since he woke up to find Hannah gone. Three henchmen had fallen victim to his anger already and it wasn't even noon yet.

_You think you know a person and then they just up and leave you_, he thought with irritation. The Joker thought he had Hannah figured out. Had thought that she was like him. _She had lost everything, had even been scarred in a way but it seems she still clings to the demented morals of society._

Sighing angrily, the Joker got out of his purple chair and stalked to his room, slamming the door behind him. His men looked nervously at each other, knowing that the Joker was at his most dangerous right then. They all stayed clear of their boss.

Inside his bedroom, the Joker was pacing back and forth, kicking at pieces of garbage as he went. But it did nothing for his mood. He was still pissed off to the extreme. _Why the HELL did she leave? Out of the little kindness I have in my heart, I was trying to show her the truth about the world. How it's all screwy and jacked up. But no. She runs away._

He thought back, trying to see where he went wrong. The pancakes incident? _No, she liked that._ The outfit? _No, she doesn't care about such things._ Her present? _Definitely not. She beat the crap out of him. Surely she would understand the wrongs of the world like I do._

The Joker was stuck. He sat down on the edge of the bed, contemplating. But nothing came to mind. And he was still pissed off. _You know what? Screw it. I don't care why, I'm just going to get her back. And I think I know just the thing._ The clown cackled as he schemed. The men in the other room shuddered.

Hannah was sitting in a chair in Gordon's office, clad in police sweats. They had taken the outfit the Joker gave her into evidence. That was just fine with her. _Why would I want to keep them? They're just full of bad memories._

After a long night in the hospital and then talking to the police, Hannah was exhausted. They took samples of the green hair gel, the black face paint, the blood on her clothing, everything they could. They even had her do a rape kit even though she told them that the Joker didn't do anything like that to her.

When they interrogated her on what happened, Hannah told them everything she could remember. But when she got to the part about Blade, she lied and said that the Joker had taken her to a meeting and things got carried away. She was embarrassed at what she had done to Blade. _Even though I hate the justice system, I can't take it into my own hands. That's really when justice is lost_.

She was close to falling asleep when a male voice called from the door. "Hannah!"

"Dimitri?!" Hannah cried, looking towards her childhood friend. She stood up from the chair as he ran over to her, giving her a great big bear hug. Hannah hugged him back, so happy to be by him again.

"I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered in her ear with relief. It sounded like he was about to cry. "I was so worried."

"I'm glad too," she replied, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I've missed you terribly. Where are the others?"

"They're at home," Dimitri responded, letting her go a little but still keeping her in his arms. "They didn't want to cause a big scene so they're waiting for you. After the police give the ok, I'm taking you home to see them."

The whole time, Gordon was watching the reunion with a relieved smile on his face. _Thank God she wasn't killed by the clown_, he thought. He walked forward towards the friends.

Dimitri turned to him as he approached. "Thank you for finding her," he said.

"Don't thank me," Gordon replied with a slight chuckle. "Thank Batman. He's actually the one who found her."

Dimitri nodded and then said, "Is she free to go?"

"For now, yes. We'll call if we need to ask anything else," Gordon stated.

With that, Dimitri escorted Hannah out of the Commissioner's office and headed home. Gordon watched them leave with a sigh of relief. He then headed up to the roof, knowing that Batman would want to know what happened.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A Sudden Invitation

Hannah was asleep on the couch with her head resting on Dimitri's lap as he softly stroked her hair. It had been a long day. When they arrived home from the police station, Dimitri's parents, Walter and Susan Alvarez, warmly welcomed her back with a big group hug. They then worked in the kitchen to make her a welcome-home lunch. Hannah insisted on helping them and so she was given stove duty.

It was now about four p.m. and since she had not slept at all the previous night, Hannah was exhausted. Dimitri fondly looked down at her as she slept, happy that the girl he loved most in the world was safe once more. He had loved her since high school but had been too chicken to tell her, not wanting to ruin their friendship.

Out of nowhere, the doorbell rang. Hannah shot up from the couch at the sound. No matter how deeply she slept, any sound at all would wake her up.

Dimitri got up from the couch and walked over to the door. He peered through the peephole and saw that it was a mailman. _Mail? At this hour?_ he thought questionably.

Without undoing the door chain, Dimitri opened the door slowly and asked, "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to bother you at this late hour," the mailman said. "But I have an urgent letter for a Hannah Khent at this address."

Dimitri carefully looked the man over. He was clad in his navy blue suit with a light blue shirt, navy blue tie and hat, and black shoes. Strangely, the man was also wearing a surgical mask. "What's with the mask?" Dimitri asked.

"Swine flu," the man replied. "Can't be too careful."

"Okay," Dimitri muttered skeptically. He didn't know why but this mail man didn't seem trustworthy. _Maybe it's the weird way his voice seems to fluctuate,_ he thought. "So who is the letter from?"

The mailman looked at the address and said, "From a Mister…Bruce Wayne! Wow. Mr. Wayne himself. Oh, um, sorry. Here." He offered Dimitri the envelope.

Dimitri cautiously took the letter and muttered thanks before closing the door in the man's face. He slowly opened the letter and hesitantly looked inside. He gasped.

"What is it?" Hannah asked with concerned thinking it was something dangerous. _In this town, you never know what'll happen, even in the mail._

"An invitation," he replied, shocked. "To Bruce Wayne's charity party tonight! Wow."

"Seriously?" Hannah gasped. "Wow…wait. What party? For what?"

"Well when you were…um…absent, Wayne donated a lot to finding you. And this was going to be another fund raiser for you."

"Really?! But why?"

"I don't really know. Maybe to get himself brownie points or gold stars with the public. To make himself look good or something. But whatever it is, he helped us and I think he wants to finally meet his 'investment.'"

Hannah didn't know whether to be appreciative or insulted. _Investment? What am I, something he bought?_ "Huh. Well, do you want to go?"

"I think the more important question is whether you're up for it or not," Dimitri said. "I don't want you pushing it. You just got back."

_There he goes babying me again._ "I'm fine. So let's just go," Hannah stated, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"Alright," Dimitri replied with concern. "If you're sure then go have my mom help you get ready. After all, it is a Wayne party. Gotta look the part!" He chuckled at the end. Hannah giggled too and then went to go find Susan.

The Joker snickered to himself as he pulled his ear from the door. _That worked perfectly! That computer whiz I kidnapped worked like a charm._

He whistled as he walked down the stoop. Looking down at his mailman uniform, he thought,_ Now to go get myself ready for tonight's party. _He quickly hopped into his stolen mail truck and drove back to his hide out. The party started in two hours.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Party at the Penthouse

It was ten minutes to six. Dimitri's parents had insisted on driving them over to where Bruce Wayne's penthouse was located. The city was even more dangerous at night and they wanted to make sure the two got to their destination safely. Unfortunately the invitation said Hannah could only bring one guest. So they said their goodbyes and then Hannah and Dimitri walked towards the entrance of the building.

Susan had put Hannah in one of several black dresses she had stashed in her closet. Hannah had her asked why she owned them all. She just smiled and answered, "One likes to spoil themselves every once and a while. Me just more than once."

Hannah had tried them all on and finally decided on a knee-length layered rayon stretch-jersey dress with a black twisted bodice and an olive underlayer. It wasn't too flashing which fit Hannah just fine. And it went well with Dimitri's black tuxedo.

Susan put Hannah's hair up into a decorative bun with curls hanging out at various places and put some eye shadow and lip-gloss on her. She finished the outfit off with some black-strapped high heels, a black lace choker, and small diamond studs in her ears. When Dimitri saw her, "Beautiful," was all he could say, making Hannah blush.

They were now riding up the elevator to the penthouse in silence. Hannah was being extremely self-conscious, which was highly unusual for her. She normally couldn't care less what she looked like. But now that she was in a short dress and going to a party with Dimitri, she was very aware of herself. _I hope I don't make a fool of myself_, she thought.

Dimitri was thinking the exact same thing. _Hannah looks so beautiful tonight. All right. Don't be stupid. Ok? Don't be stupid!_

The elevator stopped with a ding and the doors slid open. "May I help you?" an elderly man asked. He was wearing a black suit and appeared to be a butler or something of that sort.

"Um, yes," Dimitri replied. "We're invited to this party."

"And your names, please?" The man picked up a list that was lying on a nearby table, ready to check to see if they truly were invited.

"Hannah Khent and Dimitri Alvarez, her guest."

The man looked up quickly with concern in his eyes. "Not to be rude, but I don't remember you being on the guest list."

"Oh, well, um, we got this letter this afternoon that said we were." Feeling slightly confused, Dimitri handed the invitation over to the man.

He opened it and said, "Hmm…this is a little different than the other invitations but I guess Master Bruce wanted to invite you personally. Welcome to the Wayne penthouse." With that, he ushered the two friends in. He led them down a hallway and into the main room of the penthouse.

"Thank you, Mr…."

"Alfred, sir," the man stated with a smile. "Please enjoy yourselves." He then left them to attend to other matters.

"Master Bruce. Might I have a word?" Alfred asked as Bruce was chatting with a small group of Gotham's richest citizens.

"Of course, Alfred," he replied. He turned to his guests and said, "If you would excuse me." They nodded as he turned and walked away with his butler.

They headed towards the kitchen in order to have some privacy. Once the door was shut, Bruce asked, "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Well, I was wondering if you invited Hannah Khent, sir," Alfred said.

Bruce shook his head. "It would have been inappropriate to invite her when she just escaped the Joker's clutches. Why do you ask?"

"Because, sir," the butler stated. "She is out there right now, sir. Mingling among your other guests."

"What?!" Bruce exclaimed with disbelief.

"She and her guest arrived with this." Alfred handed him the invitation. Bruce inspected the letter and found nothing suspicious except that it was not the kind that they had sent out. He then turned to the envelope.

First, he felt it, seeing if there were any uneven places. There weren't any sharp corners but he did feel slight bumps along the surface. But when he held it up to the light, there was no visible ink. "Alfred, get me a pencil or something to write with."

The butler retrieved the requested item and handed it to Bruce. The young man then started to quickly, but lightly, scribble on the surface of the envelope with the pencil. Slowly, letters started to appear.

"Ah! Like a rubbing, sir," Alfred exclaimed. "Very clever of you."

"Thanks," Bruce replied. "I felt the ridges of the letters so I thought it would be a note or some erased writing." He finished rubbing and then they both looked at what appeared.

As they entered the room, Hannah could hear the various sounds of all the little groups of people in the room. They were barely nibbling on refreshments, gossiping about new scandals, and forcing laughs at jokes that were not funny. It all seemed so fake. Like they were all here to impress others, to show that they can care even though they didn't.

_I feel like they're on a different level or something_, she thought. _Like we're from different worlds._

Dimitri seemed to feel the same way as he said, "Wow, I feel so distant to everyone. Let's go hang out by the food. We can just munch and then if it turns out suckish, we can leave."

Hannah nodded in agreement and so they strolled over to the long side table that housed the cut veggies, champagne, small sandwiches, caviar, oysters, desserts, rare wines, etc. Anything you would imagine being at a rich man's party. They were both stunned at the arrangement, Dimitri from the sight and Hannah from the smell. _This is top-notch stuff here_, they both thought as they dug in.

_Check your email, Bruce._

Bruce and Alfred looked at each other in confusion for only a second before they both rushed to the computer. They pulled up Outlook and quickly searched through the new emails. They finally found one that was titled _Party Plans Are Changed_ from deanpatterson .

"Isn't that the man who disappeared a few days ago?" Alfred asked.

Bruce only nodded as he cautiously opened the email. It read:

_Dear Mr. Wayne,_

_I know what you do at night. Flapping your wings, wishing you could really fly with the righteous in the sunlight. But you're not one of the corrupt diplomats or police force, Brucey. No. You're a bat, and bats are creatures of the night._

_Don't be shocked that I know. You did a good job of hiding it from the people of Gotham. But I'm not like them. More like Sherlock. I noticed the details that gave you away. Rachel was the biggest clue. And of course the fact that you are the only one with the time, money and resources to get the job done._

_Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I'm unable to stay at your party the whole night. But I'll be stopping by just to see how it's going. Oh and also to pick up my date. I hope Hannah arrived safety. HEeHaAHAhHehEHHahaheHaa!_

_Worst wishes,_

_J_

The two of them stared at each other in horror. The Joker was coming to take Hannah back…tonight.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Party Clowns

After a short call to Gordon as Batman, Bruce quickly left the kitchen to go find Hannah. She needed to be safe above all else. Alfred was busy preparing the batsuit just in case the Joker did show up. And that was a high possibility.

As Bruce weaved through the small clusters of people, he scanned around for the unlucky girl. _Can't he just leave her alone?_ he thought. It just didn't make sense that he was so focused on one random blind girl. Then again, the Joker never seemed to make much sense in all of his other endeavors.

He finally found her standing by the food table with Dimitri. They each had a small plate load of expense hors d'oeuvres, just snacking and chatting without a care in the world. Bruce hated to be the bearer of bad news, but this was not a matter that could be brushed aside for later. It was a life-or-death situation.

After taking a deep breath, Bruce nonchalantly strolled over to the couple. With an air of cheerfulness, he said, "Well, hello Hannah. Didn't expect to see you here. How are you?"

Hannah turned towards Bruce as Dimitri almost choked on a small piece of carrot cake. "B-Bruce Wayne!" he managed to stutter after a sip of water. Hannah's eyes widened as she realized she was standing next to the richest man in Gotham.

"Bruce is fine," he chuckled. "I want to congratulate you on a safe return to your family, Hannah. Not many people would have been able to survive that long with that mad man."

Hannah shrugged. "I just tried to stay on his good side. And I took advantage of the situation when his guard was down."

"Ha ha! Of course. If possible could I talk to you about this more privately?" Dimitri protectively draped an arm around Hannah's shoulders. Bruce had a self-made reputation of being a player and Dimitri wasn't going to let Hannah be added to his list of 'conquests.' Bruce noticed his reaction and said, "You can come too. I'm not trying to get in between you two."

Hannah and Dimitri both blushed but followed Bruce through the crowd to the kitchen. As soon as they were in, Bruce's demeanor changed from the social butterfly he put on as a show to the more serious protector of Gotham. "Hannah, the Joker is coming here tonight to take you back."

"What?!" Hannah and Dimitri exclaimed at the same time.

"That invitation you got was not one of the ones we sent out," he explained with a serious tone. "We did not invite you to this party. The Joker did."

"H-how do you know it was…_him_?" Hannah asked hesitantly. The thought that the Joker was coming to get her was terrifying. _I don't want to be near him ever again._

"There was a message etched on the envelope that told me to check my email. When I did, it said that he was coming to pick you up here tonight. That you were his date."

Hannah was horrified at this news. "N-no. I-I don't want to go back to him. No! Never!" She was quickly becoming hysterical and hyperventilating. Bruce waited patiently as Dimitri tried to calm her down. When she was finally getting a hold of herself again, Dimitri looked at Bruce and said, "What can we do?"

"We need to get you out of here as soon as possible. That is the top priority. I'll have Alfred drive you to the police station. You'll be safer there." Hannah and Dimitri nodded in agreement. With that, Bruce left to go find Alfred, leaving the two friends in the kitchen.

"Are you ok?" Dimitri asked with concern as he watched Hannah stand there and fidget nervously.

Taking a deep breath, she replied, "I'll be fine. I just don't want to go back to that man. I managed to keep him from hurting me before. But if I go back, the fact that I escaped is going to piss him off. I don't know what he'll do if he gets a hold of me." She looked towards her childhood friend with a look of pure fear at the thought of returning to the clown.

Dimitri gave a half smile and placed his hand on her arm. "It's going to be ok, Hannah. Alfred will take us to the police and then they can deal with it. It'll be ok."

Hannah gave a quick nod with the smallest amount of smile possible. Although it seemed they were ahead of the Joker's game, she had a bad feeling about this. Like something was going to go horribly wrong. And she still didn't completely trust the police. _I wish Batman would come. He would know what to do._

After about ten more minutes, Alfred finally strolled into the kitchen. "If you would follow me, please?" he said as he led them out of the kitchen and back into the crowded room beyond. They pasted the groups of people as calmly as possible and managed to get to the door. But as they went to open it, the doors burst open to a mass of clowns.

"What a wonderful group of people we have here!" the Joker exclaimed as he strolled into the room, clad in his purple suit and war paint. The large group of his henchmen spread throughout the room, pointing their guns at the people to get them under control. "All of the biggest idiots and conartists of Gotham in one room. I bet you're all loving this big reunion." He chuckled as everyone in the room became silent and squished themselves against the walls. They were too terrified to speak.

Hannah automatically hid behind Dimitri. Just the sound of the mad man's voice made her cringe. Dimitri adjusted his position so that she was completely out of sight of the Joker. He was going to protect her as best he could.

"I see that our host is missing," the Joker stated as he scanned the room. "How disappointing. He isn't a very good one to have left you at such a time. Heh heh. Maybe he went to powder his nose. After all, the pretty boy must always look his best for his adoring public! Haha!"

The clown walked into the center of the room and started to search the crowd for Hannah. On the first pass, he saw no sign of her. But at the second, he recognized Dimitri from all of the press conferences he had been on for Hannah's safe return. Dimitri didn't look but he could feel the Joker's gaze on him. He shifted to try and shield Hannah better but as he moved, the clown caught a glimpse of her. _How…cute. Hiding behind him like that. She's acting like a frightened animal again. Makes me want to mess with her more._

The Joker stalked over to Dimitri and stared into his eyes. Dimitri stood there fidgeting with sweat pouring down his face as he peered into the mad man's dark brown eyes. They were full of malicious madness. But he couldn't look away. He was transfixed with fear of the man before him.

"You must be Dimitri," the Joker said. Dimitri could only nod his head in response. "It's no use trying to hide her. I know she's behind you." But Dimitri didn't budge. He stayed right where he was, wanting to protect her.

Sighing with annoyance, the clown cocked his gun and said, "I don't have time for this, boy. Give me the girl and you'll live to see another day. But if you don't…then she's gonna have your blood and brains all over her." As he said this, he placed the gun right in between his eyes. Dimitri stiffened with fear. He had no doubt that the clown would do it.

Hannah couldn't stand it any longer. "Stop it," she said as she came out from behind her friend. "I'd rather die than have him killed by the likes of you." Everyone in the room gasped. They had no idea she had been in the room.

"Ah, Hannah. You finally make your appearance." He grabbed her arm and led her into the center of the room where everyone could see.

The clown stopped suddenly and said, "Hmm…there seems to be something…missing at this party. Well, other than the general lack of a host. Heh heh. No, I think there should be some music. After all, what's a party without dancing? Hit it, boys!"

One of his henchmen pulled out some portable speakers and a stolen ipod. He connected them, turned them on, and pressed play. Hannah expected Rob Zombie or Metallica to come on but was surprised as a classical piano piece started to play.

The Joker noticed her surprise and chuckled. "I like to be unpredictable, remember? Besides, I'm actually quite a cultured man, contrary to popular belief." After putting his gun away, the clown took hold of one of her hands, placed his other hand on her waist, and began to slow dance. Hannah had never danced before and so wasn't sure what to do.

"It seems you're new to this," the clown grunted as Hannah accidentally stepped on his foot for the third time. "You would think your boyfriend would have taught you."

"He's not my boyfriend," Hannah replied quickly.

"Oh really? Just friends, huh? Even better." Hannah could hear his smile widen as he spoke.

"What do you mean by that?" Hannah asked with concern. _Is he going to do something to Dimitri?_

"It means that you're available," the clown explained. "That there is nothing to come between us."

Hannah looked up towards him in horror. _D-does he l-like me?_ Just the thought of it made her feel sick. Who could ever love a man like him? She shook her head in disbelief. There was no way this mad man could like her. Psychopaths are not known for their feelings for others.

The Joker paid no attention to her reaction and just kept dancing with her. Hannah could feel everyone's eyes boring into her as he gave her a twirl. Like she was a freak show. It made her feel highly uncomfortable.

As the piano piece came to an end, the Joker gave her one last twirl and ended with a very low dip. "Not too shabby for a first dance, I'd say," he commented as he brought her up from the dip.

Although he had done nothing so far, Hannah was still convinced that the Joker was going to punish her in some way. She stayed on her guard, ready to fight for her life. The clown noticed from how crouched her posture was and chuckled. He leaned towards Hannah's ear and whispered, "Why so tense, Hannah?"

"Why do you think?" she hissed back. _Is he truly ignorant to how scary he is or does he just do that to annoy?_

"Well, I think…"

That was as far as he got when a ruckus started in the crowd. The Joker looked towards the brawl and laughed aloud as he saw that Batman was in the middle of it. "Ah, so you've finally decided to show up, Batsy," the Joker chided. "I'd thought you'd never come. I was starting to get bored."

Batman paid no mind to the Joker as he continued to pummel the mad man's henchmen with his fists. Once most of the clowns that attacked him were down on the ground, the dark knight started to walk towards the Joker, who in turn pulled out his gun and took Hannah hostage.

"I'm having the strangest sense of déja vu right now," he chuckled as he waved his gun around. Hannah shivered with fear as the Joker held her to him with his arm. "But I think it was with Rachel before. Heh heh. Hopefully you learned to be careful with your words this time. I tend to be quite literal."

"You don't want to hurt her, Joker," Batman growled.

"Oh?" the clown replied. "Says who?" Hannah froze as he brought the barrel of the gun to her temple. "I could pop her off right now and I wouldn't give a damn."

The caped crusader knew that he was serious so he kept his distance. He kept his attention on Hannah as her eyes silently pleaded for him to help her. But there was nothing he could without the Joker firing his gun.

A silence fell upon the scene as the hero and villain held their ground with Hannah in the middle. Out of nowhere, the Joker broke the tension as he announced, "Well! I think I've had my fill of high society. Time for us to be leaving." He then started to head backwards towards the door from which he entered.

Batman made a move forward but the Joker pressed his gun to Hannah's head more firmly. "Ah ah ah! You're not going to steal my toy again, Bats. You would think he had better manners than that. I guess they don't teach those to the well endowed nowadays. Heh heh." With that, he exited the room with Hannah and his clown posse following close behind.

Murmuring started to spread through the crowd with the Joker's exit.

"…That was so scary…"

"…Was that really Hannah?…"

"…Why didn't Batman save her?…"

Then a gasp broke out as Batman suddenly ran to the balcony and jumped off the ledge. People ran over and watched the dark knight sore through the air and disappear into the darkness.

"Get in," the Joker growled as he shoved Hannah into his bedroom. She stumbled over some garbage but managed to stay on her feet as her captor slammed the door behind him. Hannah turned around and listened to him approach, dropping his trench coat on the bed.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Hannah," he muttered angrily as he slowly walked in circles around her. "I show you hospitality that others never see. I feed you, dress you, even celebrate your birthday. And what's the thanks I get? You…just…LEAVE." He nearly yelled the last word, making Hannah shutter.

He continued to circle her, like he was a vulture bearing down on a condemned animal. Hannah could hear his agitation rising as his breathing became labored and his footfalls became heavier. She dreaded that he would snap at any moment and kill her.

Hannah wasn't far off as the Joker suddenly let out a snarl and punched her in the back. She fell forward from the blow, a sharp pain emitting from where he had hit her. But he wasn't done yet. The clown began to feverishly kick her as she laid defenselessly on the floor.

"Do you know how that made me feel?! Like an idiot! Like a FREAK!" he screamed as he continued to kick her. Hannah couldn't answer. Each blow left her with a new pain to occupy her mind. The Joker paid no mind to her cries of agony and continued to attack her.

When he had his fill of that form of attack, the clown stopped kicking her and yanked her up by the arm. Hannah could barely stand. She had cuts and bruises forming everywhere. Her dress was ripped in several places and she had spots of her own blood on her. Tears were streaming down her face as her whole body throbbed with pain.

But the Joker was still not done. He shoved Hannah against the wall and began to choke her with one of his large hands. She gasped for breath but no air could enter her lungs. The clown had a firm grip. Hannah feebly scraped and pulled on his arm but his grip would not loosen.

Her captor then took out a knife from his pocket and flicked it open. Although Hannah's lungs were screaming and her mind was concentrating on getting air, she could not help but notice the click as the blade locked in place.

Hannah was about to pass out from lack of air when the Joker suddenly let go of her throat. As he turned away from her, she slumped over coughing and gasping as air filled her lungs once more. She rubbed her throat in an attempt to make the pain go away.

The Joker was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. It was as if he had an internal dilemma and was trying to decide what to do. He fiddled with his knife as he paced, closing it and flicking it open again.

Once Hannah had managed to regulate her breathing again, she slowly stood up and leaned against the wall as she listened to the clown argue with himself. Her body ached all over and she felt like she would pass out at anytime. But now was not the time for that. She needed to stay alert or else she would surely die.

Her captor continued to talk to himself. "No no no. Killing would be too quick, too _easy_. And not to mention no fun at all. That's not the way to go. No. She needs to learn. Needs to be taught a lesson. Yes. A lesson!" He suddenly turned towards Hannah and pinned her back up against the wall.

"You've been a bad girl, Hannah," he remarked. "And bad girls need to be punished so that they know what they did is wrong."

Hannah could only stare towards him as her voice escaped her in her fear.

"Oh, don't worry, Hannah. I won't kill you. Not yet. No, that would be too easy. And you wouldn't learn anything. I'm going to teach you a lesson that you will never forget."

The Joker then threw Hannah onto the bed and mounted on top of her. She tried to crawl away but the clown held his knife to her throat. "No, Hannah. You're gonna have this lesson. Whether you like it or not." The entire hideout filled with a mixture of Hannah's terrified screams and the Joker's maniacal laughter.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Morning After

Dimitri found himself once more sitting next to Gordon's desk. The Joker had kidnapped Hannah for the second time and it was mainly his fault. He blamed himself for not doing more to stop her from protecting him.

It was about one in the morning now. Dimitri had been there all night and he was exhausted. He was interrogated about what had happened and then kept there in case they had further questions. His tuxedo was a mess now and he had bags under his eyes.

The young man was now waiting for Gordon to come back from talking to one of his officers. Dimitri leaned back in the wooden chair he was sitting and closed his eyes. He almost fell asleep when he heard a noise behind him. The sound made him jump up from the chair and spin around. He let out a gasp as he saw that Batman was standing before him.

"You!" Dimitri exclaimed with anger. "I thought you would help but you just let that mad man take her. Because of you he took her again! Why didn't you do anything?!"

"Dimitri," the caped crusader growled. "I'm sorry for not stopping the Joker yesterday. But if I had made a move, he would have killed her right there."

"And who's to say he hasn't killed her already," Dimitri said dejectedly as he sat back down in his chair. The dark knight watched him in silence. "She was scared, you know? Terrified of what he would do to her if he got a hold of her again. And now she's back with him. I fear for her."

Dimitri sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He turned around to look at Batman and pleaded, "Please find her. Please bring her home. She doesn't deserve this. So please. Bring her back." The silent savior of Gotham only nodded and then disappeared into the shadows.

As she woke up, Hannah realized that the sheets had been draped over her. She felt the cotton cloth as she slowly sat up, wincing as her wounds throbbed. The cool air of the morning made her realized she was still naked. She quickly covered herself with the sheets as she relived last night. A shiver shot down her spine at the memory.

Hannah felt like an empty shell. Her body ached all over from the Joker's attack last night. But not just from the beating. After being kicked and nearly choked to death, she was raped.

The Joker had pinned her to his bed and cut her clothes to pieces while she was still wearing them. Hannah had lost count of how many times his knife had nicked her bare skin, drawing blood.

At first she tried to escape from him but the clown threatened to slit her throat if she tried it again. Despite her whole body being in pain, she still did not want to die. So she tried to distract herself from her situation, thinking of Dimitri, her parents, etc. Anything to take her mind off the present. But she couldn't help but take notice as the Joker forced himself inside her.

The unfortunate girl received no mercy from him. He was rough, a savage. It hurt as her virginity painfully disappeared. She wanted to escape but knew that she couldn't. All she could do was lay there and let the Joker have his way. The one comfort she did have was that she did not have to look at him as he committed his cruel and sadistic crime.

Hannah couldn't remember when she had fallen asleep. The last thing she did remember was that the Joker had finished and then gone off to take a shower. She had curled into a ball, closed her eyes and cried, hoping the pain and feeling of disgust would disappear. As she remembered this, tears began rolled down her cheeks again.

Suddenly, the door to the hallway opened and the Joker strolled into the room. "Ah, you're awake," he chimed, sounding in high spirits. Hannah trembled has she listened to him approach.

As the clown got closer, he noticed her tears and that her body was shaking. "No need to be scared now, Hannah. After last night, I'm in a much better mood. And I'm sure you've learned to not piss me off again, since now you know the consequences."

He reached forward and stroked her cheek. Hannah shied away from his touch, a new wave of shivers running through her. The Joker rolled his eyes and sighed. _Why do they always do that? _He looked at Hannah with an irritated expression. Then he had a sudden thought.

"You know what?" the Joker said as he jumped up from the bed. "I think what you need is a fresh start to the morning. And what's better than a shower! Come on." He pulled Hannah out from under the sheets. She desperately tried to cover herself up but the clown only laughed at her. "Its no use, Hannah. I've seen it all already." Hannah blushed scarlet as she was dragged into the bathroom.

Thankfully, the Joker let her shower alone as he went to get her some clothes to wear. Hannah showered as fast as possible even though she was in no mood to do anything. Her body ached and the bruises and cuts stung as the water and soap washed over her skin.

Hannah quickly wrapped a towel around her as the Joker strolled in and tossed her some clothes. The ensemble that the clown had picked out consisted of a light blue button up shirt, a white undershirt, dark blue pants, a belt, and a pair of white socks. But no undergarments. Her's had been cut to pieces the previous night and so she would have to do without.

With her captor watching her, Hannah slipped the outfit on as quickly as possible, not wanting to be naked before him any longer. From the sheer size of the pieces of clothing, she could tell that they were some of the Joker's own clothes. The sleeves went past her hands; her feet were consumed by the pants so that you couldn't see the socks. She looked like she had drunk some of the shrinking potion from Alice in Wonderland. The belt was a happy addition to hold up the pants.

Despite the large size of the clothing, Hannah felt exposed with the lack of underwear. It felt so strange without them. But she dared not to ask the Joker for some. Not after what happened last night.

Once she was dressed, the Joker grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her behind him. Hannah gave a small yelp as he roughly pressed on her bruises and cuts in his firm grip. The clown took no notice and continued to pull her along behind him.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Clown Must Be Crazy

"Eat," the Joker ordered as he forced a bowl of fruit loops and a spoon into Hannah's hands. The clown plopped himself in his purple chair and just stared at her. She nervously took hold of the spoon and started to eat as she sat on the brown cloth couch.

The cereal was stale. Hannah grimaced as she slowly chewed and swallowed each bite. It tasted gross but she didn't dare stop eating. Not with the Joker watching her like a hawk, observing her every move. The feeling of his gaze boring into her made her shiver.

The Joker sighed in annoyance as he watched her. "You've changed, Hannah," he said as he leaned forward, placing his elbow on his thighs and letting his hands hang down. "Before you had fire, spunk. You would be sarcastic and joke along. Didn't show fear like the others. I liked you like that."

He got up from his chair and began to pace across the room, continuing his rant. "I felt like I had finally found someone like me. Someone with whom I could relate to. Sure I have Batman but he's no fun. He refuses to take the final plunge. And besides," He glanced back at Hannah. "It's more fun with someone of the female gender. Heh heh."

Hannah could only squirm in her chair as she relived last night yet again. _Can't he just stop reminding me of that?! That's something I want to forget ever happened._

Ignoring her discomfort, he continued in an angry but perplexed tone as he began to pace again. "But now…you've become like all the others. You're weak. Can't even properly take revenge on someone who took everything from you. I was fine with showing you how to do it since it was your first time. But then you fainted before finishing the job."

"Any normal person would," Hannah mumbled quietly.

"What was that?" the clown snapped as he spun around quickly, glaring at her.

"Nothing," she muttered and went back to eating her cereal.

The Joker kept staring at her for a moment, took a deep breath, and then continued talking. "Now where was I…oh yes, I gave you a birthday present. And what's the thanks I get? You run away while my back was turned, returning to the people of the ignorant masses. As you could tell from last night, I was rather angry when I discovered you were gone."

_He brought it up again? Jesus! Will he never let me forget it?_ But there was nothing she could do. The Joker freaked her out too much for her to tell him to stop talking about it. _He would probably beat me up again._ The thought made her shiver and lose her appetite. She felt around for the side table and then placed her bowl on it.

"But now everything is back to normal…mostly. I got you back here and taught you to never run away again. The only thing that's not the same is your attitude. Like I said before, you're acting just like the others. Your fear is showing and you cringe away from me. It's really annoying ya know. I want you to stop and go back to the way you were before."

Hannah looked towards him as he picked up her bowl and slumped into his purple chair again. "That's never going to happen," she said as she glared.

"Oh?" the clown asked as he stirred the cereal. "And why's that?"

"When someone beats you and then rapes you," Hannah replied in an irritated tone, "The atmosphere is never going to be the same. I was already scared of you before from what you did to this city. But now that I've experience the…craziness… myself, I fear you even more."

The Joker stopped stirring and glared at her. "I am _not_ crazy," he snarled.

Hannah could tell that her word choice bugged him but she didn't care. As she spoke, her confidence was slowly coming back. "Oh yeah?" she responded. "Says you. I, personally, think you are."

Her captor took a deep breath and forced a smile as he said, "Oh really? Would you care to enlighten me?" His voice was filled with suppressed anger.

"Certainly," she declared with irritated sarcasm. "First off, your whole war against Gotham. Don't you think it's a little weird that you are the only one to know the 'truth' about the world? That everyone else believes that you are wrong and that you belong in a straight jacket?"

"No," the clown answered bluntly. "I don't. They're all just idiots who aren't smart enough to understand what I know. And the only way they can keep me from teaching what I know is to lock me away in a tiny cell."

"Ok…let's talk about my case. Why did you suddenly decide to kidnap me after only meeting me for an hour?"

"Because I felt like it," he answered as if it was obvious. "I found you interesting. Your acute senses and your ability to fight despite the lack of sight. I believe I've already told you this when I first brought you here."

_Oh yeah. He did say that, _she thought as she remembered. "Alright, fine. How about giving me Blade as a birthday present? Does that not seem strange to you?"

"Nope," the Joker replied. "I was honestly surprised that you couldn't finish. After seeing you beat the shit out of him, I honestly thought you were ready for the next step. But I was wrong apparently."

Hannah rolled her eyes and sighed. _A sane person would never think that. I'm not sure if he's so crazy that he can't comprehend how nuts he is or if he's just plain stupid._ As she was lost in her thoughts, the Joker started to eat what was left of her cereal.

"Yuck!" he exclaimed as he spat the soggy mush out of his mouth. "That's disgusting! And you were eating this? Blech!" The bowl fell to the floor as he rose quickly and rushed to the kitchen for something to make the bad taste go away.

_What is he? Five?_ "I didn't have much of a choice with you glaring at me the whole time," she snapped.

"Well you could have said something," he claimed. "I'm not completely heartless."

"Really?" Hannah said angrily. "I have nothing to back that claim up. From what I've seen, you have no heart at all. All you care about is your 'truth.' Everything else is either your pawn or in your way. So please explain to me how you are not heartless?"

The Joker stopped rummaging through the cupboards and looked over at Hannah. "I haven't killed you yet. Usually I kill them within the first day. But with you, I've only gone as far as a beating."

This response caught Hannah by surprise. She was speechless. But as she thought about it, she could not deny that it was true. He hadn't killed her yet unlike all of his other victims. _But that brings to question why?_

As if reading her thoughts, the Joker began talking again as he continued to search through the kitchen. "I'm not quite sure why I've kept you alive for so long. It's a mystery even to me. I guess you could say you're special in a way that's beyond comprehension. But in any case, I wouldn't count on your luck to hold out forever. Even the coolest toy at Christmas becomes boring by mid January."

Before she could speak again, the Joker was her pulling from the couch and dragging her behind him. "Where are you taking me?" she asked with concern.

"I have things to do today that require all of my men," he explained as he reacted his room. "So I can't spare any to baby-sit you. And to make sure you don't escape again, I'm locking you in here."

Before she could do anything, the Joker pushed her into his room and locked the door behind her. No matter how much she beat or pulled on the door, it would not budge an inch.

"Enjoy your day, Hannah," he chided through the door. Hannah continued to beat at it as he walked away, laughing maniacally. After awhile, she leaned against the door in defeat, breathing heavily. This time, she was truly in a cage.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Welcome Home Present

Alfred found Bruce collapsed on the couch in the living room. He was lying face down in a black t-shirt and gray sweat pants, fast asleep. The butler sighed as he strolled over to the young master to wake him up. "Sir, your bed would be more comfortable," he said as he gently shook him.

"I think that's a matter of opinion," Bruce grunted as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Right now I find this couch very comfortable."

"That may very well be," Alfred replied with a smirk. "But I am your butler and it's my job to make sure you sleep in your bed properly. Now scoot. You look like you need some rest." He gently pulled Bruce up from the couch and started to lead him towards his bedchamber.

"You never give up on me, do you?" Bruce commented as he let his long time friend lead him away.

Alfred chuckled as he said, "Never."

The two friends were almost to his bedroom when the phone rang. But it was not just any phone. It was the prepaid phone that was Gordon's only means to contact Batman. Bruce and Alfred looked at each other with concern, both knowing that whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

They walked back to the living room to where he had left the phone behind. Preparing his gruff voice disguise, Bruce answered the call. "Gordon? What is it?"

Hannah had continued to pound at the locked door for hours, desperate to get out. But once all her strength and energy had left her, she admitted defeat and collapsed on the bed, crying herself to sleep.

She was dreaming of being with Dimitri again when a distant voice called, "Oh Hannah. Wake up, Hannah."

But she did not want to. Something told her that the voice was not friendly, that she should not listen to it. So she didn't.

Then something touched her, shaking her gently. "Hannah. Seriously, wake up." It seemed that the voice was reverting to physical stimulation to sway her. But it would not work. She continued to ignore it.

"HANNAH! WAKE UP!" the Joker yelled as he slapped her. Hannah's eyes shot open as the sharp pain pulled her into consciousness. Breathing heavily, she looked around in panic at the darkness surrounding her until she remembered it was always like that. Once she regained some sense back, she looked towards the Joker as she caught her breath.

But her breath ran out again as the clown pulled her into a tight embrace. Suddenly being hugged by the mass-murdering psychopath caught her by total surprise._ Has the world gone mad or something? Why is he hugging me?_ _Sure, he's hugged me before to mess with me, but this time its different. What the hell is going on?! _But she didn't dare pull away. The thought of how he might react kept her from resisting.

"Geez, Hannah. Don't do that to me," the clown sighed with relief. Hannah could do nothing but stay there, thoroughly confused. "I thought you weren't gonna wake up. That maybe the cereal was poisoned or something. I wouldn't put it below my men to poison someone like that. Heck, I've done that before."

"Well um…I'm fine. Really," she said, still baffled at what was happening. "I…I think the bigger question is if you're okay 'cause you're acting really weird right now."

The Joker pulled her away from him so he could see her. She looked towards him with a confused expression, not sure what was going on. He stared back, his eyes examining her face.

"What? Is it wrong to not want to share one's toys?" he replied with a serious tone. "You are mine. No one else's. I will do what I want with you. That includes when to kill you…if ever." He giggled after the last part. Hannah did not join in. She was not one to laugh at her own death.

"Well then," the Joker continued. "Now that you're awake, we have business to attend to today. Go take a quick shower and change into this." He shoved some clothing into her arms as he pushed her towards the bathroom.

Know that when the clown says quick, he means it, Hannah took the fastest shower in her life. She finished in two minutes flat and dried herself off in a hurry, wanting to be dressed again. The Joker opened the door three minutes later to see her fully clothed.

This time, Hannah did not have to deal with clothing that was three sizes too big on her. The clown had managed to get her an outfit that was more her size…maybe a little too much of her size. Her ensemble consisted of skinny jeans, a form-fitting purple tank top, and a thin green hoodie jacket. She finished tying the shoelaces of her new checkerboard converse before standing up.

"Perfect," the Joker declared. He grabbed Hannah by the arm and pulled her along behind him. They walked down the hall, through the living room and out the door. Hannah expected that he would drag her outside again but he actually went the opposite way and turned left, making his way down a long hall.

They walked past door after door until they reached the end of the hallway. The Joker stopped before the door and turned to Hannah. "Since you are back here now, I decided to get you a welcome home present. A pet you could say. I expect you'll take good care of him."

Hannah's mind filled with dread as he said this. _Oh no. He couldn't have. Oh no no no. Please God no. Don't let it be true._

As the clown slowly opened the creaky door, Hannah's fears were confirmed as a limp figure tied to a chair under a dim lamp looked up and weakly said, "H-hannah?"

Alfred quietly watched as Bruce's expression filled with fear. The young man grunted his response into the phone and then hung up. Without a word, he turned around and jogged to his bedroom. He walked to the wall and touched a sensor that opened the panic room that served as his emergency batcave.

As he followed close behind, Alfred asked, "Sir, what is it? What has happened?"

Bruce turned to his butler as he geared up into his batsuit. "The Joker…he's struck again."

"What did he do?" Alfred asked, his voice full of worry. _Has he done something to Hannah?_

Obviously still in shock, Bruce managed to reply, "He…he kidnapped Dimitri."


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: And So It Begins

"What are you going to do, sir?" Alfred asked as Bruce quickly finished putting on his armor. They both made for the private elevator to Bruce's personal garage below the building. It housed several of his flashy cars, but more importantly, the Batpod.

"I need to find the Joker's hideout ASAP," Bruce replied as the elevator started to move down. "Hannah was lucky to have survived this long with him. But I don't think Dimitri will last long at all."

"I think you're right, sir," Alfred said. "So are you sure you know where his hideout is?"

"Pretty sure," Bruce confirmed. "I knew I was in the right area when I found Hannah running along the streets there. And she said she hadn't been running that long so I'm sure I was close. So I'm going to search the area until I find it. Then I'll alert Gordon so he can get reinforcements over there while I go in to rescue those kids."

"I do hope you make it in time," Alfred said as the elevator opened and he and Bruce walked over to the Batpod. "God knows that those two don't need any more of this madness. Let alone this town. The Joker has surely left his mark in the hearts of the citizens of Gotham."

"Yeah," Bruce replied as he mounted his ride. "Everything he's done has left a scar that will never fade."

"As was probably his intention from the start, I'm afraid," Alfred sighed.

"Most likely."

"Well, good luck, sir," he said, stepping back from the Batpod so Bruce could head out.

"Thanks," Bruce replied as he revved up the engine. "Knowing Joker, I'm gonna need it." As Bruce drove away, Alfred turned and walked back to the elevator. Batman was once again racing to beat the clown at his own game.

"Dimitri!" Hannah cried out as she started to run over to his limp frame. But the Joker grabbed her arm, preventing her from reaching him. In anger, she spun around and yelled, "Let me go!" While attempting to wrench her arm from his grasp.

"Ata ta ta. Not so fast, princess," the clown said as he pulled her back towards him, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I said that I got you a present, not that you could open it yet."

Hannah glared at him as she said, "What have you done to him?" She stopped trying to break free for the moment, knowing that it would be useless.

"Me?" the Joker replied innocently. "I haven't done anything to him."

"Yeah right," Hannah scoffed. "If that were true, he wouldn't be here."

"Now Hannah," the clown replied as he tightened his grip on her, not happy with her tone of voice. She grimaced a little but refused to give him the satisfaction of showing how much it really hurt. "I'm a man of my word. And when I say that I did nothing to him, I'm telling the truth. He was the one that followed you. HE was the one that was caught by my men. HE was the one who let them beat him to a pulp! I, personally, have not laid a finger on him. Therefore, I haven't done anything to him."

"You count that as not doing anything to him?" Hannah said angrily. "Just because you didn't physically hurt him yourself doesn't mean you are free of guilt. You could have led him on a wild goose chase so that he lost the trail. You could have stopped your men from beating him. But you didn't. So its your fault."

"Don't you remember, Hannah?" the Joker interjected. "When you interviewed me, I told you that I have no guilt. I feel nothing when I hurt others. Nothing at all. So how can I be at fault when I don't feel guilty about it, hmm?"

"You just are," Hannah replied angrily.

"Well aren't you the scholar," he said sarcastically. Hannah only glared at him in response. "But its time to go. I am very busy today so come on, Hannah. I need to make sure you're locked up good and tight."

The Joker started to drag Hannah out the door with him but she would have none of it. With all her might she began to struggle again, not wanting to leave Dimitri. The Joker sighed at her seemingly feeble attempts. "I really don't have time for this today. If you want to stay with him this badly then I'll just lock you in here."

With that, he pushed her away and locked the door behind her. Hannah was shocked that he actually let her stay. _What could he be planning?_ But she only dwelled on the thought for a second as she remembered Dimitri.

Hannah cautiously made her way towards Dimitri, her arms stretched out in front of her. She did not want to run into anything but since her white cane was long gone, she had to resort to this. After a few minutes, she managed to find him and the chair he was strapped to.

As delicately as possible, Hannah lifted Dimitri's head with her hands. He must have been unconscious or asleep because he seemed to have been surprised by her touch. _Or did he wince?_ Hannah believed that it might have been both because she could feel some swelling and cuts on his face.

Dimitri looked at her with relief seeing that she was alright as she cradled his head in her hands. Hannah wished she could do the same. This was one time that she wished she had her sight back if for only this moment so she could see if he was alright as well.

"Hey…H-hannah," Dimitri said quietly, too weak to talk above a whisper. "I'm so…h-happy…to see that…you're alive."

Hannah could tell that he was hurting real bad by the way he breathed after every few word. She tried to be strong for Dimitri but there was no way she could keep back her tears. "Y-yes. I'm alright," she lied. "Just a few bumps and bruises. Nothing too serious."

"H-heh. That's good," he sighed with relief. Tears started to roll down his cheeks as well. _I'm just so glad that she's alive._ "I was…hoping…t-to rescue you. But I only…got caught…m-myself."

"Are you alright?" Hannah asked with concern.

"J-just a few…bumps and bruises. Nothing…too serious."

Hannah chuckled. "I see you can still joke even in the worst of times."

"Of course," he replied with a hint of his usual spunk. "That's when…you need…a laugh the most. Helps you…cope."

"Is that so?" Hannah said. "Well then we're gonna need a whole ton of laughs to survive this one." _I just hope it's not the Joker who's laughing. I don't want to become the punch line for one of his jokes. That would be the same as a death sentence._


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Escape Interrupted

After almost an hour, Hannah finally managed to free Dimitri from the chair. Whoever tied him up was an expert in knot making. With the intricacy of the weave, Hannah suspected an ex-boy scout or sailor was behind it as she blindly fumbled to undo the entanglement.

Hannah still didn't know the extent of Dimitri's injuries. He refused to tell her no matter how much she pried. But she did know that having him lying down was better than leaving him in that chair. So as carefully as possible, she cleared away the garbage and crud to make a space for him on the hard wood floor.

"Hannah," Dimitri said as she forced him to lie back. "You don't need to do this, ok? I'm fine now. I just had the wind knocked out of me before."

"Even though you have your breath back doesn't mean you're fine," Hannah replied. True, he had started to breath normally after that short hour but she still wasn't completely convinced. "Until you tell me how you really are, I'm going to baby you." As she finished speaking, she pushed Dimitri so that he was lying on his back.

"You know it's just so you don't worry about me, right? I mean," he said as he stayed down, looking up at Hannah. "You're doing the same thing. Not telling me what he did to you."

Hannah paused for a moment at his words. _But there is no way I can tell him. It's too shameful. The th-things he did…no. I just can't!_ "I-I'm fine," she stuttered, turning her face away. "There's nothing wrong with me. Really."

"Don't give me that," Dimitri asserted with a hint of anger. "I know he did something. I can see the cuts and bruises as clear as day. So don't just sit there and tell me that nothing's wrong."

"Well, at least you have the advantage of seeing that something's wrong!" Hannah snapped. "I don't have that privilege so I have to deal with waiting for you to tell me. Is it so wrong that I don't want you to worry about me as well? I was just happy to be with you again, but you have to be like this! You don't want me to just sit here then fine, I won't."

She got up to walk away from him but Dimitri sat up and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from leaving. Hannah looked down toward his grip and tried to wrench her arm free from his grasp. But he wouldn't let go. "Hannah," he pleaded earnestly. "Don't leave my side. Please, I've already had to experience that twice. Both by the hands of that clown. I don't want to have to go through that again. So please, stay with me."

Hannah stopped trying to free her arm. She couldn't help it. She loved him too much to say no. With her cheeks flushed red from blushing, Hannah sat back down next to him.

"Thank you," he sighed with relief as he laid back down. Hannah smiled as he rested his head on her lap. She affectionately stroked his hair in silence.

They stayed like that for a while until Dimitri eventually fell asleep. Hannah made sure not to wake him as she carefully moved his head off her lap. After she placed his head gently on the ground, Hannah stood up awkwardly with her legs feeling all prickly from sitting down for too long. Once she regained some feeling in her legs, she cautiously started to walk towards the wall, hands out stretched in front of her.

Hannah didn't know when the Joker would be back or when Dimitri would wake up. But if they were to survive this ordeal, they needed to find a way out of the clown's clutches. So when she reached the wall, Hannah started to fastidiously check the perimeter for an escape route.

With extreme caution, Hannah hesitantly made her way along the wall, swiping up and down it, searching for any openings. She also rummaged through whatever she found on the floor, checking for anything that could be used as a weapon. Hannah wanted to make sure they at least had a fighting chance.

Checking the room turned out to be a very slow process. Since she couldn't see, Hannah had to move forward at a snail's pace, carefully searching the walls and floor. She didn't know how long it had been when she can upon something in her path.

Cautiously, Hannah tapped the object with her foot. Nothing happened. She crouched down and reached out her hand, placing it on the frame of the unidentified bulk. Again, nothing happened. Whatever it was, there was loose cloth on the outside but something squishy yet firm on the inside.

Hannah gingerly patted the mass and found a dip. She tentatively followed the curve and found what felt like hair. Hannah had a sneaky suspicion of what she had found as she came across something that felt like an ear.

_It must be human_, she thought. But the main question was whether the person was alive or not. With growing concern and certainty of what she would discover, Hannah felt the person's face before her with her hands shaking with dread. She found the eyes, the nose, and the mouth. _But what are these things on the cheeks?_ _And why are they…wet?_

"AAAAAAHHH!" Hannah screamed as she realized that they were cuts, wet with blood. She fell backwards and scooted away as fast as she could.

Her cries woke Dimitri up immediately. "What happened?!" he yelled as he stumbled over to her. But Hannah couldn't answer. She buried her face in Dimitri's shirt, her whole frame shaking. He held her close until she was able to calm down.

"Th-th-there's a p-person over there," Hannah managed to stutter as she pointed towards the body. "Th-they have s-scars. Still b-bloody."

Dimitri stood up and pulled Hannah to her feet. He led her over to the chair he had been tied to and had her sit down. He then walked back over to the body.

As he looked at it, he realized that it was Dean Patterson, a computer technology student of Gotham University who had gone missing recently. Dimitri had seen him around on campus a few times. _That's probably how Joker was able to copy the invitation and get in contact with Wayne._ But it seemed the computer whiz's usefulness had run its course.

After doing all he could for the man, Dimitri returned to Hannah. She asked him if he knew who it was. He told her what he knew.

"But we can't dwell on this, Hannah," Dimitri said, hugging her tightly. "We need to figure out a way to escape from here. That way we can tell his parents. It's the least we can do."

Hannah nodded as she wiped her eyes with her jacket. "While I was inspecting the walls," she said, her voice shaking a little. "I found one part that was boarded up. It could be a window or something, but I'm not sure."

"Alright," Dimitri replied, sighing in relief. "That's a good start. Do you remember where it was?"

"Along that wall," Hannah answered. "I found it before I got to…Dean."

Dimitri nodded. "Let's go check it out." He helped Hannah up from the chair and led her back over to Dean's body. Together, they backtracked the wall in search of the possible escape route.

As they made their way along the wall, Hannah nimbly walked through the garbage while Dimitri kept on tripping over the clutter on the ground. After he had once again caught himself before he fell flat on his face, Dimitri asked, "How are you able to trudge through this filth so easily?"

"Well, if my guess is correct," Hannah replied as she continued forward, swiping her hand up and down the wall for the boarded up section. "There isn't much light in this room which would explain why you're tripping over everything. And since I haven't been able to see for years, my other senses are compensating more than yours are. You'd think you would know this by now after all these years." They both chuckled.

The two resumed their search for a few more minutes until they finally found what they were looking for. Hannah waited as Dimitri examined the area. "Well," he said after a few minutes. "I'm not sure if this is a window or not. I can't see any light coming through but that could be from it being dirty or boarded up on the outside. But we should still try." Hannah nodded in agreement.

The boards were crudely nailed to the wall so Dimitri had little trouble in pulling them off. There was no glass behind them but there was what felt like a sheet of plywood. Dimitri enthusiastically punched it and it popped right out of place, letting the bright sunlight to permeate the room. The sheet fell down and landed with a metal clang.

Dimitri flinched and shaded his eyes from the light. But Hannah was concentrating on listening. "Did you hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?" Dimitri asked, still blocking the bright glow.

"That metallic sound," Hannah replied as she reached down for a piece of trash. She held it out the window, dropped it, and listened. _Clang._ She looked towards Dimitri with a smile on her face.

Squinting slightly, Dimitri stuck his head out and looked down. "Well," he said with a smirk. "What do you know? There's a fire escape right here."

Hannah giggled and hugged Dimitri tightly. Although taken by surprise, he happily hugged her back. They stayed like that until they heard loud voices from the other side of the room where the door was located. The Joker and his men were back. Their time was up.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: The Punch Line

The two friends froze as they listened to the Joker's men laughing and conversing with each other from out in the hallway. Hannah began to tremble, terrified of when the door would open and the Joker would come walking through. Dimitri looked down at her, weighing their options, and finally made a decision. He leaned down, picked her up in a princess hold, and forced her out the window before she could protest.

"Dimitri?" Hannah asked, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you out of here," he replied as he place her down onto the fire escape. "I'm not letting that freak hurt you again."

"Well, then hurry up and get out here so we can leave," she said, tugging on his arm.

But Dimitri did not move. He looked at Hannah glumly. "Not we, Hannah," he answered. "Just you."

"W-what?" Hannah looked toward him with concern. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean," Dimitri replied calmly as he took her hands off his arm, "is that I'm not coming with you. I'm staying behind."

It took Hannah a second to realize that he was serious. "What?! NO!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm again. "No, y-you can't do that. You have to come too. If you don't, he'll kill you!"

"I know!" Dimitri cried, tears starting to form in his eyes. Silence fell between them for a moment. He looked at Hannah, staring into her dark brown eyes, knowing that she could not see him or the anguished look on his face. Taking a deep breath, Dimitri continued. "I know. But it's the only way to make sure you have enough time to get away from here."

"No! I can't let you do this," Hannah asserted, her voice shaking slightly but still filled with determination. "I can't let you face him alone. If you're not coming with me, then I'm staying here."

She started to try and climb back through the window but Dimitri stopped her. "No, Hannah," he said with somber conviction. "I can't let you stay. I refuse to watch that clown take you away from me again. I won't be able to handle it for a second time. So I'm begging you, get away from here. Leave this place and get yourself somewhere safe."

"B-but…Dimitri," Hannah muttered, tears rolling down her face. "I don't want to lose you. I…I love you." She looked towards him, pleading with her eyes for him to come with her as tears rolled down her face.

Dimitri looked at her with surprise from her sudden confession for only a moment. He quickly reached forward, brought Hannah close to him, and kissed her. Hannah happily kissed him back as she blissfully felt his lips passionately pressed against her own.

As they pulled apart, Dimitri spoke. "I love you too, Hannah. That's why I can't stand when that freak hurts you. That's why I want you to go on without me. So please go before it's too late."

"Bu-," Hannah began to protest when the doorknob started to turn. She froze in fear at the sound. It took Dimitri a second to notice what she had heard. He pushed Hannah to the side of the window so that she was hidden out of sight. Then he quickly turned and hurried back over to the chair.

The door opened just as Dimitri reached it. He looked up and saw the Joker standing squarely in the doorframe without his purple trench coat. A look of shock spread across his face, which soon turned to anger.

"Well, well. It looks like the kitten escaped from her cage," the clown snarled, scanning the room as he walked in, "But I see that the puppy is still here. Good. Something I can let my annoyance out on. Boys!"

With a snap of his finger, several of the Joker's goons rushed into the room and attempted to get a hold of Dimitri. He gave a good fight but there were just too many thugs for him to shake off. They forced him to kneel down on the ground in front of the clown.

"So," the Joker began with an anger-laced voice, "You thought you would help my toy slip through my fingers, did you? Well, if Hannah hasn't told you, I don't like it when she leaves. Makes me feel…hated. And that's not a fun feeling."

"Is that why you beat her?" Dimitri asked, staring up at the Joker who leered back at him. "To make you feel better?"

"Oh no," he sneered, chuckling as he walking closer to Dimitri. "I didn't just beat her. No, that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me. So I took away the only precious bodily possession that she had left next to her life. I took _her_."

Dimitri looked at him with horror. The Joker outright laughed at his reaction. "HahahHahaHahaHaha! It seems that she didn't tell you!" he chided, bent over with laughter. "I guess she didn't want to break the bad news that I got to her before you did." Dimitri could only glare at him.

Still chuckling, the Joker dragged the chair closer and sat down. "Though to be completely honest," he confessed with a sigh as he looked at the ground. "I would rather have taken my time with her. It would have certainly been more fun to do it right and make her accept me during it. But with my temper the way it is, I didn't have the patience I would have needed for that. Oh well, maybe next time."

He looked up at Dimitri to see his death glare and smirked. "Oh I wish Hannah could see your face right now," he snickered. "Your reaction is just priceless. Wish I had a camera on me." Dimitri just continued to stare menacingly up at him.

The Joker suddenly hopped up from his chair and excitedly proposed, "Dimitri, how 'bout a joke?"

Dimitri was confused. "W-what?" he asked inquisitively. _That was a total 180. Is he really as crazy as they say?_

"A joke, boy, a joke!" the Joker exclaimed, flailing his arms. "You know, one of those things that cause the human emotion of joy and happiness! Makes you laugh, makes you cry. Makes you want to keel over and die. Oh wait, that's me. Keheheheh." He gazed down at Dimitri as he chuckled. "So how 'bout it? Wanna hear a joke?"

"S-sure," Dimitri answered hesitantly. The Joker's track record for jokes was covered with blood, but he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter.

"Alright," the clown grinned. "Why did the blind girl cross the road?"

Dimitri glared at the psychopath angrily. _He's purposefully messing with me. I just know it._ He took a deep breath to calm himself before asking, "Why?"

"Because she didn't see the lights change!" the clown replied excitedly, laughing at his own joke. But Dimitri did not find it funny at all. He scowled at the cruel mad man who was doubled over in laughter.

The Joker noticed his cold stare and stopped laughing. He squatted down in front of Dimitri so that they looked eye to eye. He tilted his head to side and asked, "Why aren't you laughing? Or at least smiling. I mean, come on. That was a funny joke!" But Dimitri just kept staring into the clown's brown eyes with a look of pure malice. _He's just as bad as Batman, _the Joker thought._ No sense of humor at all._

"You know," the Joker remarked as he looked at Dimitri's face. "I've always wondered why a straight face was called a poker face. I mean, you can tell exactly what they're thinking by just watching the way their eyes move or mouths twitch. It's just so easy to read."

The clown rose to his full height and began to pace back and forth in front of Dimitri. "It's like with Bats. I can read him like an open book," he attested as he walked. _And he's just so fun to tease._ Then he stopped and turned to Dimitri again. "But me on the other hand, I'm the black box. No one can ever figure out what's going on in my mad little mind. Many have tried but all have failed."

He walked back up to Dimitri and leered down at him. "Ya see," he explained, "When I laugh, no one can ever figure out why. Oh, they know it's because of something I find amusing. But that can be a number of things. Funny jokes, magic tricks, people being blown to smithereens. Really anything. So they can never figure out exactly what it is until it's too late to do anything about it. It's like watching a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Hilarious!"

The Joker stopped his speech as he doubled over in laughter. Dimitri just stared at him with confusion. When he got control of himself, the Joker looked at Dimitri. At the sight of him non-smiling face, the clown stopped laughing. "You know," he said. "You're being a real kill joy right now. Can't you at least fake a smile? No wait…I have a better idea."

The clown squatted down in front of Dimitri once again with an evil grin spread across his face. In a flash, he had a knife at Dimitri's mouth. He snickered as the boy's eyes filled with terror.

"I think you know where I'm going with this, don't you boy?" the Joker proclaimed. "Since you won't smile willingly for me, I think I'll tell you a story about when I received my permanent one. It's a very funny story and you'll definitely be smiling by the end of it."

During the whole time the Joker was speaking, Hannah had been frozen as she sat just out of sight. But now that the clown was going to tell how he got his elongated smile, she quickly, but quietly, made her way down the fire escape. She did not want to listen as he recounted the scarring story.

It didn't take long for her to reach the ground. The room the Joker had kept them in seemed to only have been on the second floor. Hannah wasn't sure which way to go but she decided to turn left. She cautiously made her way along the side of the building, keeping her hand on the wall as she went. As she came upon a corner of the structure, a blood-curdling scream rang through the air.

Hannah stopped abruptly and stared wide-eyed towards where the scream came from. Another shriek resonated out from the window. With a certainty that those were Dimitri's cries, Hannah leaned back on the wall and slid down to the ground. She buried her head in her arms and broke down in tears.

How long she stayed there, Hannah didn't know. But when she couldn't hear the screams anymore, she slowly got up. An air of numbness surrounded her. With everything that had happened to her over the past few weeks, life seemed unreal.

_Can it really be possible,_ she asked herself as she leaned against the wall. _Can all of this madness be real?_ It seemed only yesterday that she had gotten a ride from Dimitri to go on a simple class field trip. But now here she was, beaten, battered and all alone. She had nothing left.

With one last wipe of her eyes, Hannah decided that it was time to get moving. She didn't want Dimitri's sacrifice to go to waste. As she took one step away from the building, someone grabbed her around the middle and dragged her into the alley.

Hannah made to scream but a gloved hand clamped itself over her mouth. She struggled to free herself but her captor only laughed…a rather familiar laugh. Hannah stopped fighting as she realized that the Joker had once again captured her from behind.

It was like she was reliving a nightmare. _Wait…I did have a nightmare like this, _she suddenly realized._ It was on the day that all this craziness began._ And as she recalled this, Hannah remembered how her dream had ended. She gulped nervously, hoping that that part of the dream would not come true.

"Now, Hannah," the Joker breathed into her ear. "Did you really think you could get away from me? I thought you would have learned last time that I'd eventually get you back. One way or another." He removed his hand from her mouth and wiped some of her hair out of her face. Hannah cringed under his touch.

The Joker sighed. "I thought we went over this already," he said with a slightly irritated tone. "I don't like it when you do that. So come on, smile. Or I'll make you like I did Dimitri." He stroked his finger across her cheek as he spoke. Hannah brushed away his hand in annoyance. This surprised him at first but then he just laughed.

"See?" he remarked. "That's the attitude I was looking for. A little defiance makes things more interesting, don't you think?"

Hannah was about to comment when a fight seemed to have started inside the building. The Joker's men were yelling and making a huge ruckus. The clown listened for about a minute. "Hmm," he muttered. "Seems Batman finally decided to join the party. We should get going."

Before Hannah could protest, the Joker unceremoniously flung her over his shoulder and started to walk back towards the fire escape. Hannah knew that it was useless to try and free herself. _That would just land me with a head injury and still be his hostage. _So she didn't struggle as he started to climb, his shoes clanging on the metal steps.

"So which story did you tell Dimitri?" she inquired, hoping that the Joker would let her live longer as long as she kept talking. Also that maybe the Batman would hear her and come to her rescue soon. "The one about your father or about Agatha?"

"Oh those? Pfft. Those are old news." the Joker replied dismissively. "No, I told him a new one I thought up. It's about a trip to the dentist and he got me high on laughing gas while he drilled into my face. The look of terror in your boyfriend's eyes was just too precious!" He giggled as he reminisced.

"Wait…so those stories you told me were all lies?" Hannah asked crossly. "They were just something you made up in your free time?"

"Mmm?" he uttered, distracted as he started to climb past the second floor. "Oh yes. They were fake. I had a _lot_ of free time in Arkham. So I used the time to be a little…creative with my past. It's more fun to have one that's multiple choice, don't you think?"

"How can you be like that?" Hannah cried in frustration. "Always telling lies. There are people who are trying to help you and yet how can they when you never tell them the truth. If they don't have all the facts, they can't treat you properly."

"Ah, see? That's where your problem is," the Joker replied as he moved onto a third ladder. "Those people who are trying to 'help' me are under the delusion that there is something to cure. Some deformity in my psyche that needs mending. But I already told you that nothing _is_ wrong with me. I'm perfectly sane and yet you people don't get it."

"That's where you're wrong, Joker," Hannah declared. "Your so called truth and the way you spread it is not normal. No one else sees this world as you do. And why is that? Because there is something strange about you. The only explanation is that you have some sort of abnormality. A defect that causes you to be who you are."

The Joker paused a moment as they finally arrived on the roof. Although Hannah couldn't see the rage that was painted on his face, she knew she had struck a nerve as his grip on her legs tightened painfully. He let out a ragged breath in an attempt to calm himself as he placed Hannah on her feet. She had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

"So what you're saying," the Joker said with a restrained tone as his temper quickly rose, "is that I'm a freak? Huh? Is that what you are trying to tell me?"

"No I-," she began as she slowly backed away from him. "I didn't mean it that way. All I meant was tha-"

"That I'm what?" he interrupted as he advanced towards her. "A monster, raving lunatic, maniac, weirdo, nutter? Call it what you will. But it all means the same thing. And I don't like being called that."

Hannah didn't know what to do. She had never meant to make him mad. But now he had snapped and she knew there was no stopping him. All self-control had disappeared.

The Joker had become silent. Hannah listened hard as she kept backing up until she found a low wall about knee-high; she had reached the end of the roof. She gulped nervously as she realized that one strong shove could push her over the edge and to her death three floors down. The clown chuckled and she knew that he was thinking the exact same thing.

"So little kitten," he cooed evilly. "How does it feel to be stuck in a corner with no way out? Frightening? Are you scared that this hideous and deranged creature before you will attack at any moment?"

Hannah couldn't answer. Fear had silenced her voice and froze her to the spot. The Joker took that as a yes. "Good," he said. "You should be." He took a step forward as he pulled out his knife.

"Leave the girl alone, Joker," a voice growled. The clown spun around to see Batman briskly walking towards them from across the roof. "You've done enough damage."

"Oh never enough for you, Bats," the Joker chuckled. "No matter how much we play together, you always seem to come back for more. Makes me think you're a bit of a masochist."

Batman glared at him as he kept walking forward, intent on saving Hannah. But the Joker didn't want that. Her life was his and his alone. Her fate was in his hands, whether she lived or died.

Then he heard the sounds of the police sirens in the distance. _Damn! The police scum are on their way. Coming to ruin my fun as always._ Knowing that he didn't have much time, the Joker spun back around to face Hannah. Before she could do anything, he stomped on his foot, releasing his shoe blade, and kicked her in the gut.

Hannah gasped at the impacted, glancing down at the burning pain that erupted in her innards. She feebly reached for something to grab onto as she lost her balance. But there was nothing for her to seize. Batman and the clown watched as she fell over the edge and crashed to the ground a few seconds later.

The Joker walked forward and looked down at Hannah's body as a pool of blood formed around her head and stomach. "Darn," he said, snapping his fingers. "Missed out on a perfect opportunity for that _300_ quote. What a waste. Don't you think so, Ba-"

The clown was cut short as an armored fist made contact with his face. He fell sideways and landed on his stomach on the roof, his knife flew away from him. Batman took the opportunity to immobilize the mad man and cuffed him.

"Oh, Batsy," the Joker chortled, spitting blood onto the roof, "I didn't know you were into bondage as well! This is a new development in our relationship."

"Shut up, clown!" Batman barked as he pushed him hard to the ground. "The police will be here to deal with you soon."

"And in the meantime," the Joker chided, "You're going to just stand there and sulk 'cause you couldn't save the damsel in distress, right? C'mon, Bats. You gotta realize that you can't save 'em all. In fact, she was gone already for a long time."

Batman stared at the clown on the ground in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked gruffly.

"Well isn't it obvious?" the Joker responded as he managed to maneuver into a sitting position. "She was already lost before I got to her. What with the whole troubled childhood thing and all? Not to mention the fact that this town, this…society let the two of us meet. She was doomed from the beginning. I just helped her over the edge, both figuratively and literally."

"You're wrong," Batman asserted. "She did nothing that was of your caliber. Nothing that brought her down to your level."

"Ah, am I?" the clown questioned. "Perhaps she didn't tell you everything. Possibly from confusion, residual regret, uncertainty about how to handle what she felt. All are understandable when taking someone's life for the first time. I've seen countless others do the same thing before her."

"What are you talking about?" the caped crusader growled. "Hannah didn't kill anyone."

"Oh really? Is that what she told you?" the Joker sneered. "It seems that she was still infected, more than I thought she was. Ok, let me lay it down for ya. Do you remember those four guys who were found in a warehouse with nice, big grins on their faces? Well, one of those guys was her work."

Batman looked at him in disbelief. "I know what you're thinking," the clown continued. "There's no way Hannah could do that. Ok, I admit that I had to help her along the way but she was still part of the process. I didn't do anything to make her kick him senseless. Sure I had to help her with the eye gouging and all that but the rest was all her. She had some anger deep down that was just waiting to be let out in one violent burst. Too late now though. All that potential is now splattered all over the pavement."

As the Joker stopped talking, the hero and villain could hear that the police had arrived and already infiltrated the hide out. The protests of his minions could be heard from below as they were forced into the back of the police cars.

The clown laughed at their stupidity. He knew it was pointless to fight now. The gig was up and all that was left to was wait, bide his time until he could break away from the boredom of captivity and rejoin the outside world to play once again.

A silence fell between the two men. Batman just watched the Joker sit there and chuckle. The calm only broke when quick steps could be heard on the fire escape. The police were coming to the roof.

"Well," the Joker said, looking towards the sounds, "It looks like the cavalry is here. Which means your work is done, doesn't it?"

"Before I go, Joker," Batman growled, "There's one thing I want to know."

"Oh?" the clown replied with mild curiosity, "And what's that?"

"Why?"

"Why?" the Joker retorted. "Oh, Bats. You should know that. It's all for the sake of the truth."

Batman looked at him with slight confusion so the Joker explained further. "Everything is part of the overall game. It's like chess. Some pieces must be sacrificed to ensure the kings survival. I, like everyone else, am just one of the pieces, making sure that the truth will live on forever.

"And you, Batsy," he continued. "Are the same. The only difference is that you are on the opposite team…for now. And don't try to deny it. I know that you're on the verge of switching. I can tell. What do I have to do make you accept it and take the leap? To just let go of everything and let your instincts take control."

"Nothing will," the caped crusader replied angrily. "I'm nothing like you. You are the lowest of the low and I will never, NEVER stoop to your level." And with that, he turned and ran off across the neighboring rooftops, his cape billowing behind him.

"Just keep telling yourself that, B-man," the Joker said as he watched him leave. "But one day you'll see."

He turned his head as the first police officers arrived on the roof. "One day you'll all see. This existence, this poor excuse for a life…its all a joke. A big, fat joke that is so poorly told you can't even laugh about it."

The officers hauled the Joker to his feet and led him to the fire escape as he continued to rant. "Don't you understand? I'm saving you people! It's pathetic watching you all run around playing follow the leader. I'm acting as comic relief, saving you from this dismal life 'cause it only gets worse. Forever unforgiving, always taking the opportunity to screw you over. But I guess you're still too stupid to understand. Don't worry though. I'll always be there, waiting. Ready to serve the punch line to this joke known as life."


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue: The End…?

"_In a sudden turn of events, the Joker was apprehended this afternoon by our brave boys in blue. But with this news that brings a sense of safety, it also brings a tragic end to an unfortunate story. Hannah Caine Khent, the girl whom the Joker had repeatedly kidnapped over the past few weeks, was found dead at the scene. It appears that she was kicked off the roof and fell to the pavement below. Her death was instantaneous. Also, Dimitri James Alvarez and the body of Dean William Patterson were found at the scene. Dimitri is currently in the hospital in critical condition. Our thoughts go out to their families."_

Bruce turned off the television and slumped back onto the couch with a sigh. "It never made any difference," he said solemnly.

"Why do you say that, sir?" Alfred asked as he came into the room with Bruce's dinner. "You caught the Joker."

"Yeah, but I couldn't save the people he killed or maimed," Bruce replied. "I started this double life to protect the people of this city. But I couldn't even save two kids. I don't know what more I could have done though."

"And that's what you have to focus on," Alfred said, passing Bruce his food.

Bruce sat up, grabbing the tray. "I don't follow," he said as he began to eat.

"You did everything that was humanly possible," Alfred explained as he sat down next to his charge. "And that's all this town could have asked of you. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I guess," Bruce sighed. "But it wasn't enough. Batman is there to serve and protect. He's meant to be a symbol of hope."

"Yes, but under that symbol lays a man who is as human as the rest of us," the butler pointed out. "And a better one than most. You constantly work for the benefit of others without seeking any kind of reward. Sacrificing all of your time in making this city safer. And I think that you have done more than your fair share. Just like your father."

"You think so?"

"Most definitely. Your father would be very proud of you if he could see you today."

"Thanks, Alfred," Bruce said, knowing that he was trying to cheer him up. He finished eating his meal in silence.

"So what's next, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he took the tray from Bruce once he was done.

"Well," Bruce replied, leaning forward, "Based on his previous actions, the Joker will eventually break out again. And he'll terrorize the people again. And I'll have to capture him again."

"Like a never-ending cycle," Alfred commented.

"Yeah," Bruce said. "One that will never stop until one of us is dead."


End file.
